Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?
by Adalind
Summary: 6 months ago Steph made changes & quit bounty hunting. Her life went all to hell as she got blood on her hands to save a friend. Can she move on, will she fix her relationship with Lester, or will there be someone else in her life?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was inspired by a text message I received today from an old friend. Whilst happily married, I still turn into a pool of mush around my mate, Steve – and vice versa; the D/H finds this hilarious and ribs us both about it. I've not seen or heard from Steve in ages, and today he dropped me a text to see how life was going. For a few brief seconds, hot, wicked images danced though my head. I see Steve as a good friend and maybe the guy I'm dating in an alternative universe/dimension.

Somehow my naughty muse decided to return from her hiatus and made me write this. She's been bugging me all day, and I know it's just not going to be a one shot. Written from Steph's POV – so be gentle on me, as it's not something I normally do.

* * *

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter One**

I bet you all thought you'd never see the day that I hung up my Golden Lasso of Truth and funky hot pants, or stopped playing Catwoman to Ranger's Batman. Well, it happened. The bombshell bounty hunter got out of bed one day and decided to change her life.

Well actually, I climbed out of a dumpster belonging to the local Chinese restaurant, after falling out of a second story window following a tussle with a skip. While dripping with egg fried rice and stir fried vegetables, I suddenly knew that I could not keep doing this forever. Something had to give.

That was six months ago and I now spend my time looking after Aunt Rose's row house, walking Bob the dog, picking up after my boyfriend, Joe and volunteering at the local woman's shelter down on Sloane.

What, did you expect me to be knocked up and married? Not likely, still not going to happen. I was happy with my life right now, happier than I'd been in a long time. A little part of me missed bounty hunting, but I made up for that with my work at the shelter. I was still doing good work for the community, and that was enough. My relationship with Joe was steady and the best it had ever been. He didn't mind that I spent so much of my spare time helping out at the women's refuge. Said that I needed something to keep me out of mischief. So everything was great, right?

Sort of, well maybe. Okay, it was until last night. Once a week I do a sleep over shift at the shelter, and around 4AM the alarms went off. I hauled my ass off the camp bed in the office, checked the building over, saw no signs of a break in and was re-setting the system in the office when I could feel someone behind me. Gun in hand – you just never know if someone's crazy ex is going to turn up with a knife – I span around and came face to face with Lester Santos.

We looked at each other, both clearly shocked to see one another and stood there of a few beats, saying nothing. Les finally broke the silence, and I found out that Rangeman provided the security on the building for free, and that he got the call out when the alarm tripped. His loft apartment is only a few blocks over, so unless he is away, he volunteers to cover out of hours call outs on the place.

Les checked the system, and over a cup of coffee or two I caught up on the gritty world of fugitive apprehension, and Les caught up on the not quite so explosive antics of the now retired bombshell bounty hunter. We chatted happily for ages, and it was only when the Rangeman control room rang to find out what the incident status was, we realized it was now 6AM.

Les gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek and told me to keep up the good work, and his fine ass sauntered out the door and into the early dawn light. And damn, what an ass it was – and the rest of him was pretty hot too.

I bet you are all sitting there yelling at your computer, wanting to know what happened with Ranger. Well… Nothing. Yes, you heard me right, nothing. After my life changing epiphany, I went to Haywood to see Ranger. He offered me a job behind a desk running searches, but I declined. I'd have been crazy, okay – crazier by the time the week was out. You remember that incident with a stapler and a guy's nuts? Well after a week of me being stuck on the fifth floor, that would be Rodriguez's fate. Plus I'd be drowning in testosterone, have to smuggle junk food in and no doubt something would happen to my clothes that would have had me returning home from work with no shoes or panties on. Again. So I told Ranger thanks, but no thanks.

He didn't call me, and after a week of me sitting on my hands so I didn't call him, life moved on. Okay, so maybe it took me two weeks. Fine! So I got Mary Lou to remove him from my speed dial, happy now?

I did miss him, but I began to realize that my relationship with him was in just as much of an unhealthy pattern of behavior as the one I had with Joe. Ranger was never going to step up, and I could never for one second believe that we would live happily ever after. Joe, well we just dropped back into the old routine. But without Ranger to distract me, the arguments tapered off and Joe and I could calmly talk things through. For the first time in my life, I was having a healthy, adult relationship. And until 4AM yesterday, I would have said that it suited me.

So what happened? Lester Santos happened, that's what. In those two pre-dawn hours I realized that a leopard just can't change its spots. I was still a walking disaster and crazy things still happened around me. I'd foolishly thought that by walking away from bond enforcement, my life would change overnight. It took seeing Lester to knock some sense into me. His presence also made me see that I was missing the Rangeman guys. Over the years, I'd gotten to know them really well, and without a reason to go to the Haywood offices, our paths just weren't crossing anymore.

I was never going to be the perfect housewife, and still refused to move in the same circles as most other women on Joe's street. As a result, I was pretty lonely at times. I still saw Connie and Lula, but it just wasn't the same. I missed Tank, Bobby and Les. I missed the reassuring sight of a black SUV in my rear view mirror, and most of all I missed the thrill and adrenalin rush of a distraction job well done. The Bombshell bounty hunter was getting the feeling that she may have made a mistake.

I folded the last of the laundry and stacked it in the basket ready to go up stairs, grabbed the paper and another cup of coffee, contemplated what to eat for lunch, and sat down at the small kitchen table. My hands turned it to the back and the job section before I was even aware of what I was doing, and then suddenly my cell beeped.

I flipped it open and glanced at the text message.

**Hey beautiful! Great to C U last nite :-)**

**Lunch Shorties 2?**

**Les**

And before I could stop myself, I was hitting reply.

**Cool. C U there**

**Steph**

This is a harmless just lunch between two old friends, right? Right?

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?**

**Chapter Two**

I was an idiot. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd jumped in my POS Honda and motored off to Shorties. This was just lunch with a friend, I kept repeating to myself. Something's never changed – I was still the queen of denial.

Shorties hadn't changed in six months. Unidentified substances still marked the worn linoleum floor, the vinyl booths still looked battle scarred and employees of Rangeman still had the knack of sitting with their back to the wall at the rear, corner table.

Lester looked up when I walked in, instantly flashed me his panty melting smile and shoved his long brown hair over one shoulder. "Hey, beautiful! Glad you could make it."

I slid into the booth, choosing to sit opposite him, instantly feeling uncomfortable. I shouldn't be here – I had no reason to be here. I gave him a weak smile and was saved from making conversation as the waitress picked that moment to appear.

She popped her gum and glanced at us both. "What'll it be?"

Les gave me the patent Rangeman single eyebrow raise. "Split a pizza?"

I nodded once and wondered if I could escape out the bathroom window. Being in Lester's presence was playing major havoc with my hormones – something I'd not had problems with for six months. Think of Joe, I admonished myself. All that instantly sprang to mind was his pile of dirty clothes I picked up off the floor this morning, and the four empty beer bottles and Pino's detritus on the coffee table that he couldn't move fifteen feet into the kitchen bin. Shit.

Lester snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Steph! Are you even listening to me?"

I looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, no I…"

"What do you want on the pizza?"

"Anything."

He looked back at the waitress, who seemed immune to his good looks – maybe that was why the Rangeman crew ate in here all the time, less broken glasses and dropped plates. "The usual, please Melissa."

She nodded. "Coffee?"

"Sure, Steph?"

Coffee? Yeah that sounded good right now. "Please."

Melissa went to place our order and Lester looked at me again. "You want to tell me why you look as if you are about to bolt out the door?"

I ran my hands over my face and let out a long sigh. "It's just – Hell, I don't know."

"Morelli know you're here?"

I shook my head.

Les laughed. "Well, that explains your current temperament. He got you banned from mixing with us lowlifes and lunatics?"

I looked at him in shock. "No! It's not like that, I just don't think this is such a good idea."

Les cocked his head and looked directly into my eyes. "Why?"

Oh you've done it now, girl. Dig yourself out of this huge hole you've just dropped yourself in. What the hell was I going to say? "I…"

"Well?"

I glared at Lester. "I don't think I should be sneaking around Trenton, seeing another man for lunch."

Les let out a bark of laughter. "Honey, it's just lunch. And I never asked you to sneak around. Call Joe now if it makes you feel any better about this. I just wanted to catch up a bit more; the guys in the office have missed you these last few months."

Now I felt like a total idiot. "I'm sorry, Les. I've missed you guys too. When I stopped bounty hunting, I didn't need to go to Rangeman 

anymore. I guess that I never realized what sort of impact my change of job would have on my social life."

Lester studied me for a second and then nodded his thanks to the waitress as she brought our coffee. "Look Steph, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are you happy?"

"Of course," I replied instantly.

Santos gave me _that_ look. The one that made grown men wet themselves and throw themselves out of windows to get away from him. "Don't lie to me _babe_," he growled.

I crossed my arms over my chest and shot him the burg glare. He was supposed to back off and apologize. Nothing happened; it worked with Joe, so why not with Les? I glared some more and Les glared back. Shit, when did Ranger add _Becoming Immune to the Burg Glare 101_ to the Rangeman required training schedule?

I huffed and re-crossed my arms. That should signal to him that I wasn't going to answer his questions. Unfortunately, Ranger had also added _Dealing with Irate Burg Women 101 _to his list of approved classes for his men. Damn.

Lester reached out slowly, and took my hand in his much larger one. "Look Steph, we're just worried about you. None of us ever expected you to just give up on your job. And when you did, you seemed to give up on your life as well. Beautiful, we just want to make sure that you are happy, that's all."

I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not – shit. One single, solitary tear slid down my cheek and I bit my lip to stop any more leaking out.

"Oh, honey," Les whispered as he wiped the traitorous tear away with a calloused finger tip. He stood up and slid into the booth next to me, pulled me in his arms, and held me tight to his chest.

A few more tears slipped out, but thankfully Lester's t-shirt soaked up the evidence. I guess Rangeman black hid more than just blood stains.

A couple of minutes later I pulled away and risked looking Les in the face.

He gave me a small smile and pushed a lock of stray hair behind my ear. "You want to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, beautiful?"

I took a deep breath and bit my lip again. "It didn't work," I whispered.

"What didn't work, honey?"

"This," I waved my hand in a vague manner. "Life was supposed to become normal again. But – but it didn't."

"You, Stephanie Plum, will never be normal. And I mean that in the best possible way," Lester said with a grin. "Just because you give up the day job, does not mean that everything will change overnight into some sort of freaky Stepford Wives thing."

"I know."

"Well, least you have acknowledged that you have a problem with your life. The next step is fixing it."

Melissa picked that moment to arrive with our pizza, and I stared at my lap to avoid her seeing my tear streaked face. I needn't have bothered, because she pressed a wad of paper napkins into my hand. She also shot Lester a very nasty glare, which made me cough to avoid the snigger that threatened to escape.

Lester ignored her. "Look Steph, I have just the thing you need to pick you up. Friday, 10.30PM at the Liberty Ballroom. What do you think?"

"Thankyou, but I don't think that's a good idea. That would make Joe really mad."

"It's not a date." Lester rolled his eyes.

I suddenly felt very silly and very small. "Oh."

"It's better than a date," he whispered in my ear, which caused a shiver to run down my spine. "It's a distraction."

"Oh." Great, ever the eloquent one, Steph. "Right."

"What do you think, you up for it?"

It did sound fun, but Joe would not be impressed. "Maybe, but I have this problem…"

Les let rip a very Machiavellian grin. "There is no problem. Tell Joe that you have to pull an extra night shift at the shelter. Leave your car there and walk the couple of blocks to my place and get changed there. You can do the job and then either hit a club after with us guys, or just go back and crash in my spare room. Pick your car up in the morning, and go home with Joe none the wiser.

"We can pay you in cash for the job, or get you an online bank account set up that no one need ever know about. Say yes, please. We've all missed you strutting your stuff. Our distraction capture rate has gone through the floor since you quit. Bombshell, you are the best, the queen of the distraction. We need you."

The devil on my shoulder bitch slapped the angel on my other and then pushed her off. There were still a couple of things that concerned me, but I really wanted to do this. Les was right, I was the best. "What if Joe calls the shelter?"

"Rangeman monitors their calls. The control room can patch it through to your cell without him knowing. If you can't take the call without giving away your location, just don't pick it up. Call him back when you can, and if he questions why you are on your mobile, just tell him that you had to run to the store for feminine hygiene products for one of the women. He's not going to ask too many questions about that."

I smiled and grabbed a slice of pizza. "Okay, I'm in." Look out Trenton, the bombshell bounty hunter is back!


	3. Chapter 3

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?**

**Chapter Three**

Look, it's not my fault, okay? I'm a Catholic, and we just don't handle the guilt thing very well. As soon as I got back from Shorties, I knew that I had to tell Joe about the job on Friday night.

And so here I was later on that day, pushing take out Pino's lasagna around my plate, trying to work out what I was going to say to my boyfriend.

Joe was wolfing down his own dinner – he was off out to his cousins for their weekly poker game, and had gotten in late from work. Maybe telling him now wouldn't be such a bad thing, as he's so distracted anyway.

I put my fork down and looked at him. "Joe?"

Joe stopped shoveling his dinner into his mouth for a second and looked over at me. "Hmmm?"

"I ran into one of the Rangeman guys today, and they wondered if I could help them out on a job."

The huge chunk of lasagna on Joe's fork dropped off and landed in his lap with a soft, wet splat. "Damn it!" he yelled as he jumped up and tried to remove the sauce stain from his jeans with a dish towel. "Shit, I need to go change these. Look I don't have time for this conversation right now, Steph. I'm running late as it is and I've had a crappy day. We'll talk about this later."

"Well, that went well," I muttered to myself as Joe dashed upstairs to put on clean jeans. I wish I hadn't bothered bringing the topic up. I knew that Joe had been relieved that I had given up bounty hunting, and had made a few comments about me not having to work for Ranger and his band of moral less mercenaries again either. But I never expected him to react like this. Okay, so maybe I did, which is why, if it wasn't for the Catholic guilt issue, I wouldn't have told him about Friday. Actually, I still hadn't told him about Friday, but I wasn't lying to him, it just hadn't come up - 

yet. Hmm, if I lie by omission, does it still count as a lie? I might be able to avoid a few Hail Mary's here.

Joe never finished that conversation with me. He did roll home drunk at 2AM and pass out, then crawl out of bed in the morning and drag himself into work. The words _Rangeman_ and _job_ were not mentioned again, and I was not going to push the issue. If Joe had a problem with me working, then it was just best not to tell him. It would only result in an argument and things had been going so well recently that I didn't want to sour the mood. I was thinking of our relationship and Joe's feelings here, not my ever growing desire to get back on the job – honest.

I'd slipped out of the house at tea time on Friday, after leaving a note on the kitchen table telling Joe that an emergency had come up and I'd had to cover a shift at the shelter, that his meatball sub was keeping warm in the oven and I'd see him in the morning.

Maybe I should have felt guilty, but I felt free. The adrenalin was pumping around my body for the first time in ages, and it was a bit of a shock at first. I'd forgotten just how good it felt and what a buzz the whole thing could be.

After ditching my car at the refuge, I hot-footed it the four blocks over to Lester's place, dragged my garment bag and duffle into the huge lift, waved at the security camera and shut the doors. The lift climbed to the top floor and it was Bobby Brown that heaved the huge wooden doors open, greeting me with a huge, bone crushing hug.

"Bombshell," I heard someone yell from a few feet away. I extracted myself from Bobby's vice like grip, pecked him on the cheek and looked over to see Zero, Cal and Manny sitting on the couch. They were all grinning like fools and looked happy to see me.

I smiled and gave them a little finger wave just as Les appeared out of the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready. Hey beautiful, you eaten yet?"

I had, but a combination of my burg manners and the mouthwatering smell wafting out of the kitchen made me shake my head. "Nope."

We trooped into the kitchen and sat around a huge table laden with salad and garlic bread. Lester placed a stack of plates on the table and set a huge dish on lasagna down in the centre. "Dig in, guys. Be careful, it's just come out of the oven, so it will be hot."

The lasagna looked amazing and I stared at Lester in awe. "You made this?"

He nodded and heaped a large spoonful onto his plate, along with a couple of hunks of garlic bread and a mountain of salad.

I filled my plate, blew on the hot pasta and took a bite. Oh my God! The sauce was perfect; in fact the whole dish was perfect. I let out a small moan and licked my lips. "Lester Santos, you are a God among men!"

Wow, a man that can cook. That was such a rarity in the burg. "You'll be telling me next that you do your own laundry too."

Les grinned. "I do."

"Clean the bathroom?"

He nodded.

"Hoover, dust and mop?"

"That as well, beautiful."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "You're gay, you must be."

Lester let out a bark of laughter and the rest of the guys around the table sniggered and made a lot of comments about Les' string of female conquests.

"Not gay?" I squeaked.

"No, not last time I looked anyway."

I fanned my face with my hand. "You know if word of this got out, every woman in Trenton, single or not is going to be camped out on your 

doorstep. You'll have to employ the guys here as body guards to protect you."

Lester's eyes had glazed over at the thought of all those women. Uh oh, seems that I'd massaged his ego just a little too much. "My grandma would probably be at the front of the queue."

His faced sobered instantly and he shot me a menacing glare. "If this gets out, I'm going to know that it came from you, and I'd hate for you to wake up one morning in Siberia. Capiche?"

I gulped. "Sure, your secret is safe with me."

"Tell who ever you want," Zero piped up. "Ranger would never let Santos here ship you off to somewhere nasty."

Manny sucked in a breath through his teeth, Cal flicked Zero's ear and both Bobby and Les sighed.

"What?" I demanded.

"We'd agreed not to mention him to you," Bobby replied.

This was just silly. "Why?"

The five men suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and none of them would meet my gaze.

"Explain!" I barked, and I swear that the lot of them jumped.

"Well, it's just -"

"You see -"

"Ranger's -"

"The problem is -"

"About Ric -"

I held my hand up. "Enough! One of you at a time, please."

They all went quiet again; guess no one wanted to be the one to tell me what was going on. I focused my attention on Lester. "So, would you like 

to tell me what is going on, or do I need to call my grandmother and tell her about your domestic skills?"

"Shit, beautiful – you are an evil woman. Look, Ric's been in Miami for the last few months and he…"

"Yes?"

"Can I get you a beer, Steph?"

"Lester," I growled.

He squirmed in his seat and let out a sigh of defeat. "He's seeing a private investigator. Met her though Rangeman Miami, her name is Justine."

"Oh."

"We didn't want to say anything, Steph. Thought that it would make you upset," Bobby said quietly.

"Oh." Great, now I sound like a right idiot. Get with the programme, Plum. You moved on, he moved on. You can deal with this. "I think I'll have that beer now, if you don't mind."


	4. Chapter 4

For Kate – MMO. With hugs – and I'm working on the cookies :-)

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?**

**Chapter Four**

"Here's the file, beautiful," Les said, mouth full of homemade chocolate cake.

I took the slim dossier from his hand, flipped it open and choked on my own mouthful of cake. When my coughing fit had subsided, I looked Lester in the eyes and shook my head. "You must be joking?"

"Come on, Steph," he cajoled, "We need you in on this."

I took a long pull of beer. "I haven't got the right equipment for a start, guys."

Bobby grinned. "Let me put it this way, baby, all the Rangemen in Trenton could not get this gal out of a bar, yet the only Rangewoman in Trenton can."

I looked at him, still slightly confused.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Steph?" Lester muttered. "She's a lesbian."

"Oh," Oh… "I mean… Okay."

"It is the Liberty Ballroom, after all," Cal piped up. "Don't you think that was a bit of a give away?"

Shit. Not only am I making a return to bounty hunting without my boyfriend knowing about it, but I'm also going to one of the biggest gay clubs in town to pick up a female skip with nothing but my feminine charms and a short hem line. Damn, damn and double damn. Why hadn't I seen this coming the other day? I hadn't thought this through very well, someone could easily recognize me and it was going to end in tears.

Somehow Lester read my mind. "Got it covered, Steph. Go get the stuff, Bobby."

Bobby strode back into the room carrying a cardboard box and what looked like a large make up bag. After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a long blond wig. "Tada!" he announced.

I rolled my eyes. "Like that's going to work, Bobby."

"Well, thank you very much. It's very nice of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." He growled.

Manny put his arm around my shoulders. "He's good, Steph. Trust us."

"Guys," I whined, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"By the time he's finished, not even your own mother will recognize you," Zero commented.

"It's not my mother I'm worried about," I gritted out.

Manny looked at me. "Where's the bombshell gone, huh Steph? Live a little – you know you want to. Or have you turned into a chicken?"

He began to make chicken noises, and I shot him what seemed to be the now Rangeman ineffective Burg glare.

Right, that did it. "Fine!" I snarled. "Let's do this."

Manny had been right all along, my own mother wouldn't recognize me, and I doubted that Joe would either. The straight blonde wig ended about 4 inches above my ass, and coupled with a slinky, low cut black wrap top and a tight, short skirt, it looked amazing. A pair of thigh high black leather boots that laced up the back finished off the outfit, and I had a feeling that the job was not going to take long. Bobby had applied hardly any makeup to my face, and I had to agree with the catcalls and whistles from the guys; I was hot. I'd asked Bobby where he gained his makeup and hair dressing skills, but he'd just tapped the side of his nose and smiled. "Need to know basis, hon, need to know."

I gave the guys a twirl and Lester pulled me flush against him. "Damn, beautiful, you look sensational. Please tell me that you'll come out clubbing after we've wrapped this up."

I grinned. "Maybe," I teased.

A cell rang. Manny snatched it up and answered. "Yo… Hey, hola, amigo… Si… Si… Adios."

The guys looked over at him expectantly.

"That was Hector. The skip's at the club, so we're good to go."

Lester took charge. "Okay, Steph goes for the target. Cal and Zero – support outside the front. Bobby – back door in case of fuck ups. Manny – you're with me inside the club." He handed out mics and ear pieces to the guys, gave me a slim wire and ducked into what I assumed to be his bedroom to change.

I was still holding the wire like an idiot when he reappeared two minutes later. Holy crap. I looked him slowly up and down and had to fight off my hormones to stop myself from licking my lips. His long, lean legs were encased in tight black leather pants that laced up the sides, showing tantalizing glimpses of his honey colored skin as he walked, sorry, stalked into the room. His long brown hair was loose and trailed to his ass, and the black silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned, showcasing yet more of that delicious skin, two pierced nipples and tendrils of a black tribal tattoo that curled over the left side of his body. My panties were most definitely ruined.

Everyone else was oblivious to Lester's stunning looks, and I was oblivious to the guys, as they were only wearing their Rangeman uniforms. Manny slipped off to get changed and Les strode over to me; his black shit kickers thudding noisily on the wooden floor.

"Wire?" he said, pointing to the aforementioned object in my hand.

I stated at him blankly; my brain had stopped functioning as my hormones had now taken over.

"How many distractions have you been on, Steph? You can't tell me you've forgotten how to wire yourself."

"Ranger always did it," I blurted out. Damn my traitorous hormones to hell.

Lester slowly raised a single eyebrow, "Really? I see that there are some extra perks to be had for being in charge of distractions."

I gulped.

Lester slid closer and wrapped his long fingers around my hand and the wire, that I suspected wouldn't work anymore, because of the high temperatures that it was being subjected to and the static electricity that was shooting between Lester and myself "Where do you want me to put it, beautiful?" he breathed in my ear.

I took a deep breath to clear my head, but ended up breathing in Lester's scent; leather and something dark and very male. Fuck. I looked away hastily and saw Manny re-enter the room. He was dressed slightly like Les, but he sure wasn't making my hormones do the mamba.

"Back in a second, gentlemen," Les announced, as he tugged me into his room and shut the door.

As soon as the wood settled in the door frame, I stepped away from him, breathing hard. Backing up, I ended up against the armoire. I took another deep breath and glanced around. Christ, this was one of the most beautiful rooms that I had ever seen. The floor was plain sanded boards, and the walls just had the brickwork painted white, but it was the contents made me weak at the knees. A huge wrought iron bed sat in the center of the far wall, draped in royal purple and silver silk covers and pillows. It was a bed made for hot sex and sensuous lovemaking. It screamed to be rolled around upon, the sumptuous silk sliding over naked flesh. Oh my!

The wall behind it was disguised by swathes of shimmering silver see-though fabric, with dark wood boxes and large chests that had an antique look to them littering the room. Books, and candles of all shapes, colors and sizes filled almost every flat surface. The only other furniture was a simple, elegant dark green velvet covered couch that looked Victorian. That itself was strewn with more books and a collection of black clothing that looked mostly made up of leather and silk. The whole thing was so decadent and it made my own bedroom pale in comparison; non descript bed, faded floral bedding and cheap flat pack furniture.

I gulped in another lung full of air and glanced up. The black painted ceiling had two iron candle holders hanging from it that were dotted with dozens of candles – well that explained the puddles of wax on the floor, and there was a huge mirror above the bed. I will not moan, I will not moan, I will not moan. All I could think of was being naked and flat on my back on those sheets, watching in that mirror as Lester fucked me.

"So, this wire, beautiful?" Lester interrupted my nefarious thoughts. "Where did you want me to put it?"

"Anywhere," I breathed, as I watched Lester walk towards me.

"Anywhere?" he asked as his strong, muscular body brushed up against mine.

I nodded. My hormones were well and truly in control, which meant that I was about five seconds from stripping, dropping to me knees and unfastening the leather thong that held the front of Lester's leathers together with nothing but my teeth.

"What about here?" His ran his fingers gently over the skin under my breasts.

"Maybe," I moaned.

"Or here?" he quizzed as he slid his hand up my short skirt and along the side of my panties at my hip.

"Yes, please," I breathed as goose bumps broke out across my skin.

"What do you think, Stephanie? Where's best for you, baby?"

"Anywhere, please," I begged, needing to feel more of his hot touch upon by body.

With nimble fingers, he unfastened my wrap top, pushing it open and baring my lace covered breasts to his smoldering gaze.

I wanted this man so much that it hurt, and I didn't care that I would regret it later. If he touched me much more, I was going to orgasm.

Lester slid the wire into one of my bra cups, tied my top back together, dropped a quick kiss on my cheek and pulled me back out into the lounge before I could even blink. "Was that up to Ranger's usual standard?" he whispered in my ear. What the hell? That damn tease!

He looked over at the rest of the guys. "We good to go?"

The crew nodded and we rode to the first floor in the old, large freight elevator. I tried to get my raging hormones under control, but having Les pressed up against the side of my body was not helping. Zero heaved the doors open and I gasped. Half of the space was filled with cars of all colors and makes, and it appeared that this building had more security than Haywood Street.

I looked around in awe. "What the heck is this place?"

Bobby gave me a sweeping bow. "Welcome to the Batcave, mi'lady."

I went white and suddenly felt very sick. "Excuse me?" I choked out.

"The heart of Rangeman LLC. All the best toys, all the best cars and more security and suveillence equipment than the Pentagon," Manny replied with a smile.

Bobby slid his arm around me and looked to Lester. "You taking the Range Rover, bro?"

"Yeah, and the F-450," he answered.

"This is the bit that keeps Rangeman running, Steph," Bobby explained. "No one knows about it, and we can run all 4 offices from here. Who's going to come looking for our control centre in a rundown warehouse on the bad side of Trenton?"

"So it's not really the Batcave, then?" I asked tentatively.

Bobby shrugged, while Lester just smiled.

"Well, now that you've seen it, you're one of the gang, darlin'. So I'm sure that you understand that you cannot tell anyone else about this place," Manny told me.

"You can get the matching tattoo now," Cal chipped in.

"What!" I screeched. This was all getting too much.

Zero laughed. "He's just joking, Steph. But we do have an initiation ceremony.

I gulped.

The guys all nodded.

"Means that you have to come clubbing tonight and get drunk with us, that's all," Les stated with an evil glint in his electric blue eyes.

"Oh," I could handle that, maybe. "I still don't want Joe-"

Manny smiled. "Don't you worry, we know a great place in Newark. Joe will never know what you've been doing.

I nodded slowly. "Sure."

This was it, I was going to hell. I had lied to my boyfriend, was about to do the same job that I promised him only six months ago I'd never do again, plus my panties had been melted by a long haired sex god that I was a millisecond from jumping and screwing his brains out. On top of that, I was wearing a disguise and had just agreed to go clubbing with a group of hunky men. This was going to take an awful lot of hail Mary's to fix. But you know what? I had a feeling that it was going to be worth it. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was way beyond the point of no return, halfway down the rabbit hole. For the first time in months I was going to fly, and I'd be damned if my guilt was going to rob me of that. I am Wonder Woman, hear me roar.


	5. Chapter 5

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?**

**Chapter Four**

It hadn't been a record breaking skip extraction, but I didn't think that seven minutes and fourteen seconds was that bad for the first time out in six months. It had taken considerably longer for us to remove Lester, mind you. Half the men in the club had insisted on giving him their phone number, and it wasn't until Manny stepped in as the jealous and angry boyfriend, that the two of them finally managed to make it out the door.

Cal and Zero had gone to drop the skip off at the station, and were then following us out to Newark. The plan was to leave the F-450 there over night and rescue it in the morning, meaning that only one of the guys had to stay off the booze to drive the lot of us back. After a heated argument, and finally a few rounds of rock, paper, scissors, Cal was unluckily named as the designated driver.

The drive to Newark so far was boisterous, and proving to be rather fun. Hector had decided to join us, fed up after a long evening stuck at the Liberty Ballroom watching for the skip, and he was talking away in rapid Spanish. Every so often, Lester, who was driving, would growl something back at him, and in the end, he pulled the sheaf of phone numbers out of his back pocket and passed them back to Hector, who grinned and thanked him profusely.

Bobby was riding shotgun, and Manny was sat in one of the spare seats in the cargo hold, ribbing poor Bobby about having to change out of his Rangeman uniform in the SUV, and into something more suited to a nightclub. Eventually, and after a lot of cussing, the Rangeman black was replaced with faded, ripped jeans, a black tank top and a red silk shirt. It was a shame really, as I'd had a good few minutes to ogle his well muscled body. Even in the dim light I'd been able to make out a few battle scars, bullet holes and a wicked looking dragon tattoo that took up most of his back; the black ink almost invisible against his chocolate colored skin in the dark.

"So," I pressed again for the ninth time, "Tell me about this club."

"It's cool, you'll like it," Bobby offered.

"You might be slightly over dressed, beautiful – might want to lose the top before we go in," Lester teased.

I gulped. "Just what sort of club is this? I don't do naked, you know. And nothing kinky either."

Manny smirked. "Just group sex on Thursday's, right? Six months off, and you're still easy as pie to rile up, darlin'. It's a club, it has alcohol and music. What more do you want?"

"Okay, sheesh! I'll let it drop. But if you lot drag me to a lap dancing club, I'm going to take the truck and drive right back."

"No lap dancing," Lester promised as he reached back and squeezed my leg. "And I promise nothing kinky, well not in public anyway."

Yikes!

Eventually, we pulled into the lot of a club called 'Dante's Inferno.' Very original. The neon sign out front was blood red and more red lights strobed over the front of the building. The line was also a mile long. Men and women dressed in leather, silk, PVC, chains and spikes made up the bulk of the clientele, and I took a random guess that this place was a rock club.

As Lester pulled into a parking spot by the front and killed the engine, Bobby grabbed a small bag from the dash and extracted some make up. "Look at me," he commanded of his partner. Les pulled the keys from the ignition and dutifully turned around to face him. Bobby pulled out some black eyeliner and set about Lester's eyes. Finally, he pulled back and grinned. "You're a damn sexy motherfucker, you bastard. Make sure you leave the rest of us a few scraps."

Lester let out a bark of laughter. "I can't help it, I'm just too sexy."

"And modest, too," I piped up.

Les peered around the head rest to look at me. With the dark kohl ringing his bright blue eyes, he really did look like sex on a stick. He licked his lips slowly and gave me a feral grin. "Sexy, modest, good cook and amazing in bed, what more could a woman ask for?"

"Less exaggeration," I quipped back.

A low pitched growl escaped his lips and I felt a tendril of fear curl low in my belly. It almost instantly turned into a blot of lust as he leaned forward, whispering, his breath hot against my ear. "I don't exaggerate, ever. If you want me to prove that, all you have to do is ask. I'm behaving myself because you have a boyfriend, but," he nipped at my ear lobe with his teeth, "all you have to do is say yes, and I'll make you forget about him for the night."

By the time I had remembered how to breathe, he was gone, slipping out of the truck and into the parking lot. I looked around and realized that I was alone with Bobby.

He cocked his head and looked at me. "If you want him, then go for it, but just remember that it's not just your emotions and Lester's involved in this."

I opened my mouth, and then shut it again. What was I supposed to say to that? That I wasn't seriously considering throwing away six months of a stable relationship for a night of meaningless sex?

Bobby climbed into the back, pulled the blond wig off my head and touched my cheek gently. "All I'm saying is that life is about consequences, and it's best to look at all of them before leaping head first into something. If you want to sleep with Les, then that's your business. None of us are going to say anything to anyone, you have my word. I just want you to think about tomorrow morning when you go back home."

I nodded slowly. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Okay, now let's get you sorted." He pulled the hair net off my head, unpinned my curls and ran his fingers though them a couple of times. "Looks fine, but we need to trowel a few layers of make up on for this club."

A couple of minutes later I glanced at the compact mirror he held in his hands and gasped. An hour ago, I was a blonde bimbo, and now I was a sultry rock chick. Damn, I looked good. "You are amazing, Bobby."

He gave me a warm smile. "I know." He cocked his head again and scrunched up his brow. "You're missing something. Accessories." Bobby pulled his short keychain out, unclipped his keys and wallet and stuffed them in his back pocket. He took the chunky, cold metal dog chain type links and slid them around my neck. It fastened snugly around my throat with a click and he leaned back and studied me for a few seconds. "That should do it. Next time we go clubbing, I'm taking you shopping for a corset beforehand."

"Corset?" I squeaked.

"Trust me, baby. With your curves and chest, you'll look stunning. Let's get moving, we're wasting valuable drinking time."

I had the guys to thank for whisking me to the front of the line. With a brief nod at the bouncer from Lester, we just filed right past the hoards and straight through the door. The noise hit me like a wall as soon as I stepped into the main room. Lights flashed, bodies moved on the dance floor and Godsmack blasted out of the speakers. Good choice. Instead of hitting the main bar, we went over to a set of stairs against the wall that lead to a balcony full of tables. More Rangeman-esque communication ensued with another bouncer and Bobby led the way to the upper floor.

It was quieter up here, so you didn't have to yell to have a conversation, plus there was table service. The guys looked like they owned the place and went right to a table at the back. A short, blonde waitress hurried over and smiled at them. "Hi guys. What you having?"

Manny grabbed her around the waist and hauled her onto his lap. "You?" he said cheekily.

She pushed herself off of him and rolled her eyes. "Not a chance, honey. But if it's drinks you're wanting, I can do that."

"We'll start off with beer, just in case Cal doesn't make it," Les commented.

"Five Miller?" the waitress queried.

Bobby nodded, "Sure."

She hustled back over with our drinks and Les grabbed a bottle. "I propose a toast. To Steph, for getting back in the saddle again, and for a job well done."

I blushed as the guys toasted my success. I took a pull of my own beer and smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

"So tell me, darlin'" Manny asked. "You missed the thrill of the takedown, didn't you?"

"Maybe," I responded.

"Liar, you loved it," Lester chipped in.

"Okay, busted. Yes I've missed it. A lot." And it was the truth. I loved it when a plan came together and a takedown went well. I'd missed the guys as well. I bit my lip to stop the tears that threatened to fall as I realized that my life was pretty shit right now. I'd had to resort in sneaking around in disguise to have a little fun. Fun Morelli style was eating pizza and watching a game, followed by sex if he was still sober enough to get it up. What the hell had I done to my life? Who the fuck had I been kidding when I told everyone that I was happy? Myself obviously. I bit my lip harder and blinked back tears. Shit.

"Okay, timeout," Lester announced as he pulled me out of my seat and towards the stairs. "You need to stop thinking, beautiful. And you need a dance."

He dragged me into the middle of the dance floor as the DJ changed songs. Metallica bled into Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer,' and I shivered at the sound of Trent Reznor's voice. Lester pulled me flush against his strong body, one hand rested on my hip and the other traced the chain about my throat. "Pretty," he growled in my ear.

I slid my arms around his neck and held him tight to me. My emotions were in turmoil. Part of me wanted this sexy man to take me to his bed, and the other part of me wanted to run back to Joe and our safe little bubble we had created.

_I want to fuck you like an animal,_

_I want to feel you from the inside._

The song lyrics made something deep inside me snap and I tangled my hands in Lester's long hair, dragging him down for a kiss. I didn't want the ordinary, I wanted fireworks.

For a second, Lester seemed shocked by my actions, but he recovered fast and kissed me back with a passion that I'd never felt before. Our bodies ground against each other and I felt his erection straining at his leathers. I brushed my hand over the taught lacing that was constraining his cock, and he moaned into my mouth. He slid a hand up the back of my skirt and ran his hand over my ass cheeks, then slipped his calloused fingers under the satin of my sopping panties, teasing me and finally spearing me on one finger that he moved inside me with a slow teasing rhythm. The pent up frustration from earlier at his apartment, coupled with his comments in the car came back with a vengeance and a powerful orgasm ripped through my body. I trembled against him and Lester swallowed my screams and whimpers with another bone melting kiss.

The song ended and he slid his finger from me, popped it in his mouth, all the while looking straight in my eyes, and licked my juices from it. He grabbed my arm, steered me back up stairs and looked at the guys. Cal and Zero had made it finally.

Les looked them over. "Though you two were dead or something."

"Not dead. Just unavoidably detained," Cal muttered. "Officer Picky decided to run the plates on the truck while we were dropping the skip off."

"Problems?" Les demanded.

"Not after a quick phone call from someone in high places put a flea in Picky's ear. I don't think he'll try that again in a hurry," Zero said with a grin.

"Good. I'm taking my Range Rover back." He looked at me, waiting for me to disagree, but I didn't. "Cal, you can take the rest of the guys home in the F-450."

Cal had the good sense to just nod.

"Gentlemen, I bid thee goodnight."

We were met with a chorus of goodbyes.

Bobby pulled me into a hug. "Remember what I told you, Steph. Consequences."

I nodded and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll see you lot at Haywood for the lunchtime briefing," Lester stated.

Manny snapped him a salute. Hector blew us a kiss, and Cal and Zero gave a muttered "Yes, boss."

"Boss?" I questioned as soon as we hit the parking lot.

Lester shrugged and beeped the SUV open. "I'm in charge, I'm running the office."

"Not Tank?"

"He's a good man to have at your back, but he doesn't want the responsibility or the extra paperwork. Bobby's got his head in the clouds, so I got it by default. Well, that and I can do the job. I've been stepping in for a long time when Ranger's been away on missions."

"But I thought that Tank was in charge."

Les snorted. "That's what we spread about. Tank scares the shit out of most of Trenton. I don't have the instant scare factor that he does, so it helps to make the locals think that it's gonna be him hunting their ass down if they step out of line."

"Clever," I commented as I slid into the car.

"But not what I want to talk about, Stephanie Plum," he whispered as he pulled me in for another kiss.

I came up for air. "Talk?"

"Yes, talking. That thing you seem to spend most of your life avoiding. I want you so much that it hurts, but I have to know that we're on the same page here. I'm not taking you to my bed and then letting you walk away in the morning."

"Joe…"

"So you need to make your mind up, little girl. I'm giving you the choice, say no, and I'll back off. You can crash in my spare room if that's what you want. No matter what, I want you to know that you have my friendship."

"I can't just…"

"So don't then Steph. Think about it, and when you have made your mind up, let me know. Okay?"

I studied Lester carefully. He was telling me the truth, giving me the choice. And I wanted him, I wanted him to make me feel alive.

"I want you," I whispered, the words thick in my throat.

"And the cop?" he pressed.

"You want me to leave him?"

"If you want to be with me, then yes. I'm not like my cousin, Steph. I'm not going to sit back and let you piss me and Morelli about while you dance between us."

I felt like I'd been slapped. "It wasn't like that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Okay, maybe it was – but neither of them could give me what I wanted, damn it!" I yelled.

"And what do you want, Steph?"

"Passion, love, commitment and fireworks."

"That's a tall order, baby."

I stared out of the window at the dark parking lot. "I know."

"So, it's a good thing that I want those things as well, just so you know."

I looked back to him, he looked very vulnerable right now, so I leant over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Tell me more about those fireworks, Lester," I whispered as I slid my hand over his crotch. I was going to do this, and it was going to be good. Tomorrow. I'd worry about Morelli tomorrow. I was sure that Lester would give me time to sort things out. It could take a couple of weeks, but he'd understand, right?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Warning for sex. This chapter contains a heck of a lot of it, and it's not sensuous and delicate, trust me. If you are offended by hot, steamy and kinky sex, then I really do suggest that you skip this chapter. I'll put up a summary at the beginning of chapter 7 so you know what you have missed plot wise.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter 6**

The ride back from Newark had been conducted in silence – a companionable one, not some tense, awkward thing, but silence none the less. Guess we didn't have a lot to say to each other.

"So," Lester stated as he dropped his keys on the coffee table, wandered into the kitchen area and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge, "My room, or the spare room? No pressure here, Steph. Honest."

I followed him over to the fridge and got my own bottle of water; my mouth so dry that I needed some oral lubrication before I spoke to him. After a couple of long swigs I looked over; he was casually leaning against the counter looking calm and in control. And damn sexy too. Only his eyes gave away his feelings and betrayed his emotions. I would bet my entire shoe collection that he really wanted to take me to his bed right now.

"Your room," I responded finally.

"You sure?"

I nodded, and he closed the small gap between us before I could blink. His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me tight against him, kissing me hard and fast. "I want to drag you into my room and fuck you 'til you scream, but seeing as this is the first time, I want you to remember it for the rest of your life. I'll be back in a minute." He kissed me again and disappeared into his bedroom.

I leant against the counter and tried to control my breathing. There was no point in trying to control my hormones, heck they were running this show anyway. I drained the rest of the water and wandered off in search of the powder room.

There was still no sign of Lester a couple of minutes later when I re-emerged in the living area. What the hell was he doing? I wanted an orgasm so badly, and the guy had the nerve to run off! I counted to ten, then twenty, and then gave up, crossing the room and knocking gently on this door. "Les?"

His boots echoed loudly on the floor as he came to the door, opening it wide. "Problems?" he asked cheekily.

"I need you," I choked out as I looked past him and into his domain. All the candles were lit, including the ones hanging from the ceiling, and the fabric on the far wall was back lit by hundreds of tiny white lights. The silk bedding shimmered in the soft light, somehow making that fabulous bed look even more inviting.

"You need me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He slid the silk shirt slowly down his arms, let it slip to the floor and pool at his feet. "Badly?"

"Please," I begged.

Lester took a step back and tugged on the ties that held his leathers fastened. The supple fabric parted slightly as his cock strained at the lacing. "No games, Steph. I won't let you do that to me. If you are not sure, then tell me to stop right now."

Was he crazy? I couldn't tell him to stop to save my life. There was nothing worth giving a damn about right now other than me and Lester, and how long I would have to wait to have him thrusting inside me. "Don't stop, please." I stepped closer, pulled at his leathers to open them some more, brushed my hand over the lacing and his throbbing hard cock. "If you stop, Lester Santos," I hissed as I squeezed him roughly, "I will be forced to get my gun and shoot you." I squeezed hard again to emphasize my words.

"Easy on the goods, darlin'" he said with a smirk as he took my hand in his. "I just don't want any regrets in the morning."

"The only regrets I can see so far, is that at this rate I still won't have had an orgasm by dawn," I muttered.

"Do you need some sugar?" he asked, face perfectly blank.

"I need you to fuck me," I screeched.

"Don't need a donut?"

"No, damn it, Lester. I just want you to fuck me!"

He pouted. "Just that? No oral?"

Bastard. I slammed the door shut behind me and stalked towards him. "I want fireworks."

He took another step towards the bed. "What happened to the passion, love and commitment?"

"Them as well, but the fireworks are what I want right this second."

"Sure?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," he said with a grin as he stalked towards me. "But first, in the interests of safety, I need to remove your clothing Ms Plum. Fireworks are dangerous and I don't want anything catching fire." He tugged on the tie that held my top closed for the second time that night, pulled it off and then ran his hands over my breasts, teasing my hard nipples though the lace of my bra.

"You've already set me on fire," I whispered. "My blood is boiling and my skin is burning for your touch."

He pulled me in for another kiss and divested me of my bra, then pushed my skirt and panties down until they fell to the floor. We came up for air and he looked me up and down slowly. "Leave the boots on, baby; I like a woman in boots."

I returned his lustful gaze, "Only if you leave your leathers on."

"You're wish is my command, beautiful," he breathed as he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, slapped my ass playfully and strode across the room to that bed, tossing me into the middle of it. He toed his boots off and crawled on after me, running his hands up my leather clad legs as he went.

"Please, Lester," I begged.

"So fucking sexy," he growled and his hands slid higher, pushing my legs apart, bearing me to his hot gaze. He dipped his head down and his hair glided over my stomach as he licked and gently bit my wet folds and clit.

Overwhelmed by the sensations he was creating, I dropped back on the cool silk covers, closed my eyes and twined my fingers in his long hair, pressing him closer to my core and keeping his tongue just where I wanted it. Damn, this man was talented. He speared me with a single finger, thrusting it in and out of me while keeping up his ministrations on my clit and then slid another in, causing me to arch my back up off the bed and moan his name.

His free hand came up and he splayed it across my belly, holding me down with ease, and all without missing a stroke. The orgasm began to build, spreading though my belly. It was then that I opened my eyes and looked up. The view in the mirror was so sexy, setting me on fire to the point of coming. With a sharp nip to my clit, he slid a third finger inside me and pushed his thumb against my asshole, tearing a whimper from me as I tried to thrash beneath him. Another couple of quick licks and strokes was all it took and the pressure inside me exploded. I yelled and screamed as one of the most intense orgasms of my life battered my body.

Lester slid up me until his crotch brushed against my over sensitive clit. He smoothed my curls out of my face as kissed me hungrily. "More?"

I tilted my hips up and pressed hard against him, while wrapping my legs over his to hold him to me. "Hell yes," I purred.

Quick as a flash he snagged a condom from the nightstand, pushed my legs off his and sat back on his knees. The bulge in his leathers was enormous and the head of his thick cock was already protruding over the top of his pants. The lacing was still tight, pressing into his shaft, and I reached up to run my fingers over it. He groaned and pushed my hand away. "Don't, you'll make me come if you keep doing that."

Suddenly feeling very bold, I sat up and tugged the thong from the front of his trousers. His cock sprang free and I moved around so I could take it into my mouth. He was huge, and his shaft felt like molten velvet in my mouth. Lester curled his fingers into my hair and his muscles bunched and strained as he fought to hold his body in check. I swirled my tongue around and up and down, then bit down gently, causing him to growl and attempt to pull away.

I let him pull back then and looked up at him. "You having problems, Lester?"

"Only in the best possible way," he whispered. "I don't want to come yet."

Wonder Woman roared to life. "Then let me help you," I breathed.

I trailed the piece of thong over his shaft a couple of times, and he shivered. "Stop that," he moaned.

"How about this instead?" I asked huskily as I swiftly looped the leather over the top of his cock and wrapped it tightly underneath and behind his balls.

"Christ!" he yelled, as I tied the lacing in a knot, improvising a cock ring.

I wasn't normally this dominant, but Lester seemed to bring something out in me that I'd never felt before. He made me feel wicked, wanton and very playful.

"You evil hussy," he growled as he slid the condom over his cock. "I'm going to make you pay for that later."

Desire skittered around my body at his words and I shot him a saucy grin. "I hope that you do, but I think you need to fuck me first."

Mischief sparkled in his eyes, and quick as a flash, he slid my legs over his shoulders and buried himself in me right up to the hilt. The positioning was exquisite, and the penetration deep and full. With hard, fast strokes, he pistoned in and out of me, somehow managing to brush against my clit as he did. I was in heaven, and it wasn't long before another orgasm hit me. This one was even more powerful than the last, and I struggled to breathe as stars burst across my vision and my body fell away.

He was still inside me, moving at a slower pace, when I came back down to earth. He released the leather constraining his cock, let out a long groan and let his own climax wash over him.

"Fuck," he hissed as he rolled us onto our sides. "That was intense, beautiful. You want more?"

"Mercy," I groaned as I stretched out my sore body.

"Light weight," he teased. "I still want my payback for what you did to my cock."

"You didn't like it?" I asked hesitantly.

He dropped a quick kiss on my lips. "I didn't say that, now did I? I liked it, a lot. I'm just not used to women taking the initiative in my bed. Makes a nice change, that's all."

"I'll remember that for future reference," I said with a lazy smile.

* * *

The beeping of an alarm dragged me slowly from my slumber. The warm body next to me moved and the incessant beeping stopped suddenly.

"Morning, beautiful," Lester breathed in my ear.

I snuggled closer to him and then blushed as I recalled the things we had done before I fell asleep. He had taken my body in more ways that I could count and the last thing I remembered was him fucking me from behind roughly as he pulled on my hair and spanked me. I was sore, but in the best way possible. Last night had been one of the best in my life and I never wanted to leave this warm bed.

Lester pulled away. "You want some coffee? I need to hit the gym and check on the systems here before my noon meeting."

"Mmmm," was all I managed to reply.

He re-appeared a few minutes later with a cup if steaming coffee, set it down on the nightstand and then sat down on the bed next to me. "What are your plans for today? I can give you a ride to your car if you like. I should be finished by four, so we can get together for dinner. You need to borrow an apartment at Haywood for a few weeks?"

My sluggish brain began to wake up once I took a sip of coffee and Lester's words began to make some sense. "I need to go home," I replied.

"And then what? You want me to ask the guys to give you a hand?"

I looked at him quizzically. "A hand with what?"

"Moving your stuff. Like I said, there's space at Haywood. I'd love for you to move in here, but I don't want to rush things."

And then everything came back to me in a flash. Shit, Joe! "What time is it?" I demanded.

"Just gone nine, why?"

"Fuck, I'm late. Joe's going to want to know where I've been. What the hell am I going to tell him?"

Lester looked at me incredulously. "The truth?"

"I can't tell him that," I screeched, "He'll go crazy."

"So just what are you going to tell him, Stephanie?" he gritted out.

"Nothing!"

"Nothing? So how are you going to explain to him that it's over?"

I looked at Lester like he was crazy, "I can't just walk in and leave him, you must think that I'm stupid."

Les stood up and began to pace the room. "I thought we discussed this last night. I told you that I only wanted you in my bed if you were going to leave the cop. Don't play me for a fool, woman!"

Shit, he was angry. I honestly didn't think that Lester would be like this, and that he'd be a little more understanding.

"I'm not, I just…"

"Want your cake and want to be able to eat it as well?" he shot back.

I sat up in bed and glared. "I just can't go back to Joe's and dump him."

"Why?"

"Because…"

Lester shook his head sadly. "Get dressed and get out. I'll call Bobby and get him to drop you off at your car."

What the hell had I done? "Lester?" I asked quietly.

"Don't, Stephanie," he growled as he stomped from the room. There was the sound of keys being picked up and then the lift doors slammed shut. I think I had just done a very silly thing. Fuck.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** If you didn't read the last chapter because of the smut, here's a recap. Last Friday Lester and Steph spent all night shagging like bunnies; in the morning everything went to hell in a hand basket. Steph refused to leave Joe or move out of his place. Les got a little angry, told Steph to get dressed and leave, and he stomped off in a rage.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. My muse has gone – vanished, so this chapter was written sans muse. Hopefully I should have enough pennies for a new muse soon – the good ones ain't cheap – let me tell ya. The last one cost me two bottles of rum. Hmmm…

* * *

**Can You Have Your Cake And Eat It?**

**Chapter Seven**

Ever since I'd left his apartment on Saturday morning, Lester had refused to take my calls, so after the fifth attempt, I stopped leaving messages on his voice mail. All it did was make me sound even more desperate than I was. I wanted to talk to him, explain my actions, but deep down I knew that it would do no good at the moment. He was angry, and no doubt hurt; hell, he had every right to be. And me? I was a total and utter idiot.

By Wednesday I was at my wits end, I'd developed a plan and it was time to put it into action. I had a night shift at the shelter, and I thought it was the only way to make him talk to me. I'd made a pot of coffee and brought a bag of donuts; couldn't see Lester eating them, but I knew I'd be needing them myself. And as the clock struck two AM, I tripped the shelter's alarm systems, sat down at the desk in the office and waited.

"I thought it would be a false alarm."

I looked up suddenly; guess I must have nodded off. "Bobby?"

"Hey, Steph. That coffee still warm?"

"Should be, help yourself." Where the hell was Lester?

Bobby gave me a sad smile and sat down opposite me at the battered wooden desk. "He figured you'd try something like this after you stopped leaving him messages. When the control room called him, he asked me to come instead. Sorry, baby, but he doesn't want to talk to you."

"I'm so sorry," I choked out as I reached for an emergency Boston crème.

"So am I," he replied quietly. "But I did warn you to look before you leaped."

"What am I going to do, Bobby? I'm made such a mess of things."

He shrugged. "For once in my life, I've not got a clue. Les is really angry; he feels used."

"I should have listened to you," I whispered as I tried to hold back the tears.

"Maybe, but what's done is done. I take it you're still with Joe, and that you didn't tell him what happened?"

I choked back a sob. "I tried so hard when I got home to be the woman he wants me to be, but he didn't even notice."

Bobby raised an eyebrow in response, took a sip of coffee and snagged a jelly donut.

I pressed on. "I know what I did to Lester was so very wrong. I guess that part of me knows that he'll never want anything to do with me ever again, so I did the only thing I could do, I tried to be what Joe wants. But it didn't work."

Bobby waved his hand for me to continue as he chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of fried dough.

Shit, this was harder than I'd expected it to be. I poured my own cup of coffee, not that I wanted to drink it, but it meant that it gave me something to hold onto. "I cooked, I cleaned, I ironed. Fuck, I did everything a good Burg housewife is supposed to do, and do you know what Joe said?"

Looking me straight in the eyes, Bobby gave me a wry smile. "Nothing."

"How did you know?" I demanded.

Bobby shrugged. "Educated guess, based on what I know of Morelli. He didn't even notice, did he, honey?"

I bit my lip in a last ditch attempt to stop the tears; they leaked out anyway. I shook my head sadly.

"So now what, Steph?"

"I don't know," I sniffled.

"You going to leave him?"

"And do what? I have no life, no job, no money, no car that's in my own name, no place to go. Damn it, Bobby, I have nothing, except a hamster and a freaking cookie jar!"

"Okay, let's look at this another way," Bobby said, looking thoughtful. "What do you want to do right now, if you could do anything?"

"Apologize to Lester."

He rolled his eyes, "Other than that."

"Get a life," I responded instantly.

"Right, that's a start. How are you going to do this, what's the first step?" he pressed.

"Leave Joe," I whispered, almost afraid to say it.

Bobby nodded. "So you take it one step at a time. Leave Joe, and then worry about anything else once you've done that."

"Where am I going to go?"

"Look, Steph," he gritted out, "Take control of your own damn life. If you want something enough, you have to work for it. If you want to leave Joe, make it happen. Or you can just stay with him and be miserable. The choice is yours, it always has been and it always will be. Guess you've never figured that out, 'cos it looks to me like you're always waiting for someone to make the tough decisions for you. How old are you?"

"I don't see what -"

"You're about thirty," he continued. "Thirty years is a long time to let other people lead your life. You want to fly, then you're gonna have to get over your fear of heights."

"It's not the height, it's the fear of falling," I murmured.

"So you're gonna live your life by everyone else's rules 'cos you're scared that you could fall flat on your face? Real clever, honey. Look where that got you with Les, you jumped at the chance to sleep with him, and still ended up flat on your face. Maybe you should learn how to free fall and go with the flow. Look I've gotta go, but call me, okay," he said as he handed me his card.

I nodded dumbly as he stood and left.

Shit, my life was a mess. Was Bobby right? Did I wait for people to make choices for me? Guess I did. I waited for Ranger to step up, and I suppose he was really waiting for me to get my act together and decide who I wanted. I let Joe push me into being a housewife; listened to him when he suggested that I didn't look for another job. But I did work for Rangeman the other day, I took the leap, made the choice myself, so it proves that I can make my own choices. So what now?

Wonder Woman was feeling a little bruised, but it was time to look for somewhere to live. And maybe I should look at getting a job too. Time to end this pity party.

With the money in my checking account and the cash from the distraction job, I had enough for a deposit and a month's rent and bills if I mooched food off my parents. And if I found a job, then I'd be able to eat too. I topped up my cup of coffee, grabbed the paper from my bag and turned it to the _for rent_section. Crap. There were a lot of apartments to rent within my budget; if I didn't mind Stark Street, that is. I circled a couple that looked promising-ish, glanced at my watch, figuring that I could still grab a few hours sleep, go see a couple today, swing by and pick up take out on my way home and even be back tonight before Joe. He'd never know that I didn't come straight home. Sounds like a plan to me.

* * *

At ten to five, my father dropped me off at Joe's door; giving me a ride back after I'd returned Big Blue to the garage after my apartment hunting quest. There was no sign of Joe yet. I popped dinner in the oven to warm and mulled over what I was going to say to him tonight. I was now the proud tenant of a two room, top floor apartment on Stark. The building had been recently done up, and it seemed okay. Plus I'd never picked up any skips there, or in the buildings either side – which should hopefully mean that no one would recognize me. I could live without every low life within a twenty block radius knowing where I lived, and banging on my apartment door to welcome me to the neighborhood right now.

I was going to borrow the Buick again tomorrow; wouldn't need a van to move my meager possessions. Then I'd need to hit some thrift stores for a few items I needed, but I should be done in time to have dinner at my parents. It was going to be tough going for a while, but I was planning on spending the weekend job hunting. It was strange, but it seemed like yesterday when I blackmailed Vinnie for a job. I wonder if that would work again?

But I still had to deal with Joe. Wonder Woman had vanished, and I really didn't want to talk to Morelli. Crap. What to do, what to do? Procrastinate. I let Bob out into the back yard, stood on the doorstep to watch him tinkle on the dried lawn and pulled out my cell.

"Hi Bobby, it's Steph."

"Hey, honey. You okay?"

"What? Oh sure. Look, I just wanted to say thank you from last night, it meant a lot to me."

"No worries. You spoken to Joe yet?"

"No, I still don't know what to say to him, but I can't put it off forever. I'm moving out tomorrow – got an apartment on Stark. And I'm going to look for a job over the weekend."

"Wow Steph, that's great. Well, I'm not sure I want you living over on Stark, but I'm so pleased that you're taking control. How are you off for cash at the moment?"

I sighed. "Not great, but I've got a little put by, plus what Rangeman paid me for that job. Gives me enough time to get a job before things get difficult."

"Look, we're pretty busy right now, and I can throw some surveillance shifts your way – if you're interested, that is?"

"Won't Lester be mad if you did that? I mean, he's still angry about the other night."

Bobby laughed. "Lester knows how short staffed we are, and I'm sure he'll be able to give you some work, because it means he can take a night off."

"Okay. Look let me get settled, and I'll give you a call tomorrow night."

"You need a hand moving your gear?"

"I thought you were busy, Bobby? I don't want to take up your time."

"Never too busy to help out a friend, Steph. What time do you want me to come over? I'll bring my work truck."

"Umm…I'm not sure. The sooner the better, hell tonight would be fantastic," I said with a laugh.

"Look, you can borrow an apartment on four tonight if you want. That way I can run you over to your new place first thing in the morning – gives you all day to get settled in. What do you think?"

"That would be great, Bobby. I'm just waiting on Joe to get in from work, so I'll tell him over dinner. What time do you finish?"

"I'm off now, so I can come over whenever. How about we say eight PM, unless you call me and tell me otherwise."

"Yeah, sounds good to me."

Bob had finished the inspection of his territory, he ambled back across the yard, and let out a bark of greeting at the same time as I noticed that the kitchen light was casting my shadow on the ground outside and that another shadow was standing behind mine in the kitchen doorway. I turned around slowly, phone still in my hand and looked up at Joe. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked very angry. Oh crap.

"Hi Joe," I said weakly.

"Shit! Steph, you okay?" Bobby demanded.

Joe said nothing, just stared at me.

I flipped my cell closed and tucked my hands in my back pockets. How much of that conversation did he hear? "So, I got takeout – Pino's. It's in the oven keeping warm."

Joe didn't move.

"Good day?" I tried. Shit, talk to me, Joe!

"It was," he growled, "Up until one minute ago. You want to explain to me what's going on?"

I bit my lip and shrugged.

"Who's Bobby? Is he one of Ranger's men? And what's this about you working for them? I thought we discussed that the other week over dinner. I said I didn't want you working for those maniacs. And why is he coming over to pick you up?"

Whoa –waving a red flag in front of the bull here! Wonder Woman finally stepped up to the plate. "No, you didn't talk about it, you were too busy eating your damn dinner! I'm leaving, Joe, tonight. I've got a new apartment and I'm going to look for a job," I yelled.

He grabbed a hold of me by the arm and dragged me into the living room. "Sit!" he spat, as he shoved me in the direction of the couch.

I wobbled, but kept my footing, and poked him in the chest. "I am not a damn dog, Morelli. Don't you dare order me around."

"How long as this been going on? How long have you been working with them?"

I shot Joe the Burg glare and refused to answer him.

"Damn it, is Manoso back in town? Are you running back to his bed?"

"I was never in his bed, Joe. And no, he's not in town," I ground out.

"You must be leaving me for someone, Steph," he sneered. "You're not just going to leave me for the hell of it. That would take back bone, and you haven't got any left."

My hand shot out before I'd even registered what I was doing, and I slapped him hard across the face. "I've found my back bone again, Joe. I _am_ leaving you, tonight in fact. I have my own place and I'm going to get a new job; I don't need you to hold me back any longer."

Joe let out a bitter laugh. "I'll give you two weeks before you come crawling back here, begging me to take you in."

"Ain't gonna happen, Morelli," I shot back.

Joe opened his mouth to yell some more, but was cut off by a loud banging on the front door. Zero burst into the living room from the kitchen, gun drawn, just as a well aimed shoulder burst the front door open and Manny half fell into the room.

Both Rangemen had their weapons trained on Joe. This could get real ugly, real fast.

"You here for the whore?" Joe asked calmly.

"We're here for Ms. Plum," Manny replied.

"Take her, I don't want her. Couple of weeks, you think, Cupcake, before you're back here begging? Let me tell you this, don't even bother; it's over. I'm not taking Manoso and Rangeman's sloppy seconds ever again," he sneered as he pushed past Zero and slammed the back door shut.

I felt numb, drained, and collapsed on the sofa.

"You okay?" Zero asked as he re-holstered his Glock.

I looked at him and Manny, bewildered. "Where did you two come from?"

Manny dropped down next to me and flicked ESPN on. "Bobby put out a 911 on you, and we were the closest vehicle."

"Oh." Thank God for Bobby. This was not how I had planned on Joe finding out. Okay, when the going gets tough – eat. "There's some meatball subs in the oven. You guys hungry?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Can You Have Your Cake And Eat It?**

**Chapter Eight**

I couldn't believe that it was only lunchtime and I had already moved into my new place. Bobby had turned up at Joe's not long after Manny and Zero last night, and between the four of us – and another order of meatball subs - we were done and dusted by just after eight. My sparse possessions had fit in the back of Bobby's truck; it was kind of pathetic really, I was just over thirty and my worldly goods packed into the back of a single SUV. We'd left the stuff in the Rangeman garage overnight and were banging on the apartment super's door at just gone eight this morning, demanding the keys to my new place.

By 9.30 Bobby and I were hitting thrift stores, while Manny and Zero had gone to pick up Manny's sister's old sofa bed. It didn't match the new décor in her guest room; it was a nasty shade of green chintz, but it was free, so I didn't care.

And now, at just past one, the four of us were packed into the back booth at Shorty's eating pizza and drinking soda; my treat to the guys for helping me out so much in the last 24 hours. I wasn't sure if Lester had wanted them to take the time off work; I hadn't asked and they hadn't elaborated. Santos had been nowhere in sight in the building last night or this morning. Geez, I wonder if he was avoiding me?

It was strange, every time I thought about Lester, I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, and when I thought about Joe, all I felt was a huge sense of relief. I still didn't know what to do about Lester, but I knew I didn't want to think about Joe, or deal with the fallout. My mother would no doubt be hitting the bottle and ironing the toilet paper by now. I suspect that her phone had been ringing since first thing this morning. I had no phone at my new place – I kept trying to kid myself that it was a luxury I couldn't afford, which was true. It also meant that my mom had to call me on my cell, and the invention of caller I.D was a blessing. It wouldn't help her mental stability right now that it was actually turned off and in my jacket pocket. I would no doubt have 20 voicemail messages from her the next time I turned it on. Guess I could just delete them; then again, I'd need to mooch food for the foreseeable future if I didn't find a job soon. I'd need to keep in my mom's good graces if I wanted dessert this side of Christmas.

I snagged another slice of pizza; boy did you have to move fast with these guys, and signaled the waitress for a re-fill on my soda.

Bobby leaned back in his seat and smiled. "So, you given any more thought to a few shifts at Rangeman, Steph?"

I shrugged. "Sort of, but I'm not sure I want to work there right now. Might not be a good idea, if you catch my drift. Maybe I should just look for a normal job."

Manny snorted. "Yeah, and look how well that turned out last time, chica."

I glared at Manny. "None of it was my fault!"

The waitress, Melissa – the one from my visit here with Lester, placed my drink on the table and cocked her head. "You looking for a job, hun?"

"Yeah," I replied tentatively.

"Need someone for the late shift. Pay's not great, but the tips are good. Least you won't drop things around these guys like the last girl did. You waitressed before?" she asked.

"Not since college."

She laughed. "It ain't rocket science, girl."

"True," I said with a grin.

"You want me to go talk to the boss for you?"

I guess there were worse places to work. It was only ten blocks from my apartment, so I wouldn't need a car. And it wasn't cluck In A Bucket, that's for sure. I looked up and smiled. "Yeah, why not."

* * *

It turned out that Shorty had not heard of my dry cleaning and fast food exploits that occurred last time I attempted a normal job, and he'd been happy to hire me. The late shift turned out to be from six until closing at two. Despite the lateness, it actually had a few perks. With me still pulling a shift a week at the shelter, it only left Sundays when I was free at six for dinner at my parents. Things were looking up; not only did I have a job, but I also had an excuse to get me out of suffering my mother's wrath six nights a week. And the bonus was that I got fed during my shift, so my grocery bills were going to be non existant.

It had been a grueling first shift; heck I must have burned more calories waiting tables than on a good day, or maybe that should have been a bad day, chasing skips. Most of the Rangeman guys had been in the building, which had been fun. The rest of the clientele wasn't as bad as I'd feared either. In fact, the only down side was the number of blisters on my poor feet. The night had descended into chaos at closing time, with a dozen drunken Rangemen spilling out onto the sidewalk. I'd stupidly protested that my feet had hurt, and Cal picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, leaving me dangling in the air and staring down at the asphalt. Good thing I hadn't been drinking.

Cal had been one of the designated drivers, and he decreed that there was no way on this earth that I was walking home or getting a cab back to Stark Street at two in the morning. So he'd bundled me into the back of his SUV – which was already full of tipsy Rangemen; I think it was Manny's lap I ended up sitting on. Back at my new apartment all six of the guys had insisted on making sure my place was secure, and before I knew it, more beer had appeared and there was a party in my living/bedroom.

I rolled over as someone beside me groaned, my brain roaring back to life in an instant. What the hell had happened? Oh yes, party.

At some point I don't remember, my sofa-bed had been pulled out and I'd ended up sleeping – fully clothed might I add – between Bobby and Manny. I sat up slowly and looked around. Cal was passed out in the armchair, Zero and Hal were passed out on the floor, and there was the sound of snoring coming from the bathroom. Guess that's where Binkie had ended up crashing out. Crap, it was like college all over again – only this time the guys were more attractive.

Coffee. That was it, I needed coffee. And I'd bet my weeks wages that this lot would too. We were going to have to send out for breakfast, since I didn't have enough provisions to feed the Merry Men army, but I could fix the coffee. Bleugh, I'd not been this hung over in a long time; definitely a re-run of college. I shoved myself off the couch and re-adjusted my short skirt and skimpy top that was also known as my work uniform, and glanced at my watch. Shit! It was nearly midday. Guess that's what happens when you're still up drinking beer at seven in the morning.

Someone's cell rang, playing 'Ride of the Valkyries.' Bobby rolled over without even opening his eyes, located his ringing phone and pressed the cancel button. Then he rolled back over and passed out again. I fixed the coffee as another phone rang. No one moved to answer it, so I ignored it. By the time I was adding sugar to my coffee, a third cell rang. I carefully picked my way over the bodies on the floor, searching for it, but it stopped before I could find it. Then Bobby's phone started up again; someone had their panties in a twist. I plucked it off the floor before Bobby had even moved and hit talk.

I opened my mouth to speak, but never had a chance to get a single word out.

"What the fuck are you all doing?" an angry voice yelled. Oh crap, it was Lester.

I was tempted to turn the damn thing off, but instead just remained silent.

"Damn it, Bobby! Why the fuck is one of my trucks sitting outside a barrio on Stark? And while I'm at it, where the fuck are half the team? I've got 5 other guys MIA. Care to tell me just what the fuck is going on?"

Shit, I don't think I'd ever heard Lester this angry before. Even when he walked out on me last Saturday morning, he'd just about managed to keep his temper in check. This side of Les was very new to me, and I wasn't sure I liked it very much. Should I try and talk to him? Maybe I could try an accent so he wouldn't recognize my voice. Shame I'd never been any good at anything other than my native Jersey twang. Crap.

"Well?" he hissed.

Suck it up, Steph. Time to step off that ledge and free fall into oblivion. Maybe polite, and courteous will save me.

"Hi Lester. Look, I'm sorry, it's my entire fault. Cal gave me a ride home after work last night and the guys all came up for a few beers. I'm just about to give them coffee and shove them out the door."

I was met with total silence, so I pushed on. "It wasn't planned or anything, I didn't mean to get them into trouble. Look, I'm really sorry. They won't be long."

More silence.

This was awful. I had no idea what Lester was pissed at – the fact that I went back to Joe last week, or that his men were partying until dawn at my place. Definitely time to wrap this up and kick the Merry Men out the door. "I'll go finish sorting the coffee for them. I won't take up any more of your time."

I was about to end the call when Lester finally spoke; his voice was low and harsh. "Guess I was mistaken, huh? Friday night must be group sex night."

"Hey, it wasn't like that!" I screeched indignantly. "They brought me home, we drank beer and then everyone passed out."

"Right, whatever Steph," he growled.

"Oh you know what, Lester?" I snarled, "Go fuck yourself. Just because you're pissed at me doesn't mean that you have to make everyone else miserable. So I fucked up, okay? You think I'm not sorry for hurting you? For the record, I am so very sorry for what I did to you. I didn't think things through, I just took what I wanted and I know now that it was the wrong thing to do. I wish I could take back my actions and that we could still be friends, but I can't. I have to live with my screw up's, but believe me, I'll never do something so stupid ever again. I miss you, and I still want you, but I know that's not going to happen, so I've done the only thing I can do – move on. I seriously suggest that you do the same."

Lester was silent for a few beats. "You really left him this time?" He sounded calmer now, his voice not much more than a whisper.

"Yeah, so I guess in a roundabout way, something good did come out of all of this mess. I've moved out, got my own place and got a new job; time to take my life in my hands and make my own decisions."

"I wish," he choked out before he cleared his throat and carried on, "I don't think I can forgive you for what you did."

"And I'm not asking you to either, Lester," I replied. "I would like your friendship though, if that's not too much to ask."

"Maybe. Give me a few weeks, okay?"

"Sure."

"And Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"Please try not to break any more of my men."


	9. Chapter 9

Waves at everyone who is still following this fic. Thanks for sticking with me on this one – my muse is still not very co-operative and I'm working on an AFILAW non fanfic re-write when she does want to let me get words onto a page. Rest assured, I will finish everything that I've started – it might just take a little time.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it? **

**Chapter 9**

I'd been living on Stark Street and working at Shorty's for nearly six weeks now. My mother had finally stopped tippling, after realizing that I was never going to fit into the Burg mold, Joe had apparently slunk off to Boston on an undercover assignment, and Lester would now greet me politely if he ran into me at work.

All in all, life was pretty good. I spent more time with Connie, Lula and the Rangeman crew than ever before, and it was really nice. In fact, I had been busy playing matchmaker, setting Connie up with Manny. They made a great couple, and so far, my bad relationship pheromones had not rubbed off on them.

Bobby was trying to talk me into setting up as a private investigator, or even joining Rangeman and working for them in the same role. It would be really good money, and I actually felt I'd be pretty good at that sort of thing. Seems that since Ranger had been dating Justine, he'd come to the conclusion that every office needed a PI on the team. Guess who got that job at Rangeman Miami? *cough* Justine *cough* Okay, so I'm being a bit of a bitch. Actually, I was happy that Ranger had finally found someone to share his life with; it had been a long time in coming.

So what about Les? Well, I'd come to the conclusion that I'd burned my bridges with that relationship; which, from what I could tell was the single biggest mistake of my life - besides letting Morelli take my virginity of the grubby floor of the Tasty Pastry. Still, life moves on and hopefully I'm going to learn from that mistake. Besides, I had a shift to work and a birthday party to attend, so it was time to, as Bobby would say, stop wondering about the what ifs and the maybes and get my shit together. Tank was turning thirty-two tonight, and the boys were stopping into Shorty's before hitting Dante's Inferno. I was hoping to get off work early, or convince someone to give me a lift over to the club once my shift was over.

I'd been back to the club a couple of times with the boys, and Bobby had kept his promise, taking me corset shopping a few weeks ago. Said offending garment was red silk, and easily the most amazing item in my wardrobe. It was probably the most expensive too; though Bobby had paid for it and refused to tell me just how much it cost. He'd simply said that it was a 'Kicking myself up the ass' present.

I stuffed the top and my thigh high leather boots into my shoulder bag, jammed my feet into my Vans, and set off on the ten block trek to work. Hey, it was keeping me fit, my thighs had never been so toned.

* * *

"More?" I asked in amazement.

"Keep 'em coming, doll," Tank said with a grin.

I shook my head in disbelief; I'd never seem the guys eat so much pizza. The dozen of them, along with Connie and Lula had already demolished ten between them, and I headed back to the kitchen to order another five.

"More beer too," Ram yelled across the room.

I filled another two pitchers – one wouldn't have gone very far, and went back to the table, deposited the beer and filled my tray with rubbish and pizza crusts.

"What time you guys heading out?" I quizzed, hoping that someone would be able to give me a ride; I'd already talked Shorty into letting me off work at midnight.

"When Shorty runs out of pizza dough," Brett joked.

"Not even you lot could achieve that feat," I shot back with a grin.

Brett leaned back in the booth and let out a belch. "Maybe, but we could give it a damn good try, right guys?"

I was met with a chorus of yells and 'damn rights' from the motley crew in front of me, who all stopped shouting abruptly, going eerily silent. The back of my neck tingled, Lula looked like she was watching a tennis match, her gaze flying back and forth between me and the door, and Connie was suddenly sporting her burg glare, with Manny planting his palm on her thigh to hold her into her seat. Fuck, why did I have the feeling that this was going to be real bad?

I hastily finished clearing the crap from the table, plastered a fake smile on my face and turned around to face the music. Yup, it was Ranger all right, with a woman that I assumed to be Justine, and behind them was Lester with his arm around a willowy bottle-blonde with a Botox fetish. When it rains, it pours.

"Ranger, Lester," I said politely as I sashayed past them all and shot into the kitchen, the door catching me on the ass as it swung shut.

Shorty looked startled as I clattered into the room. "You okay, hon?"

I dumped the tray and thunked my head against the prep table. "Why me?"

He stuck his head out of the kitchen hatch, and jerked back fast like he'd been burned. "Ahh," he said looking at me sympathetically. "Do you want to take your break now?

"Can I just go home instead?"

He shook his head, "Sorry hon, not really. Go take fifteen instead."

I went to the back door and picked up Shorty's smokes off the shelf. "Do you mind if I-"

"I thought that you didn't-"

"I do now," I muttered.

"Sure. Here, take this with you," he said as he handed me a bottle of beer from the fridge.

"But I'm working," I protested.

"Steph, take the damn beer, 'cos you look as though you damn well need it right now. I'll get Carla to swap tables with you."

"No! Sorry, no… I can't let it get to me, you understand?"

"Sure do, girl. Now you go and sit on the fire escape and drink your beer – Boss' orders."

I sat on the rusting fire escape, absently pulling the label off my bottle of Bud, and trying to gather the courage to get back to work and face the music. I could have handled seeing Ranger with Justine tonight, or Les with his bimbo, but both together was a bit much. But what did I expect? They were cousins after all, and Lester had probably wanted to catch up on life and Rangeman Trenton with Ric. Still, they could have left their women at home. All I needed now was for Morelli to show up with a woman on his arm, and I'd have a full house of recent sexual partners and their new girlfriends.

Yup, this was a definite 'Why me?' moment. Funny thing was, that it was the bimbo that bothered me, not Justine. Firstly, Botox Girl just didn't seem like Lester's type; she screamed 'gold digger' to me, and I didn't think Les was that stupid or desperate, and secondly, part of me wondered if she was just some piece of skirt Les had picked to make me jealous. If she was, then that meant he still gave a damn, right? But then again, she could just be then next girlfriend, and then that would mean that he'd really moved on, and we'd never have another shot. Crap.

Maybe I could get drunk and seduce him on the dance floor, or borrow one of the guy's tazers and knock Botox Girl out in the ladies. Hmm, I liked the sound of plan number two.

"I can smell something burning."

I looked up, momentarily startled, to see Bobby leaning against the back door, three feet away from me. I'd been so lost in my evil machinations that I hadn't seen or heard him approach.

He lit up a smoke and smiled. "Need to be more aware of your surroundings, honey."

I tried the Burg glare on him, but it didn't work.

"So, let me guess, you're sitting out here to avoid Les and Ric."

I nodded and stared at my sneakers. Like it didn't take a genius to work out why I was hiding out here freezing my ass off.

"And concocting some nasty plan to cause bodily harm to Gloria, while working out where to hide her body at Dante's, and then put the moves on Lester. Am I right?"

"Something like that," I muttered.

Bobby laughed and ruffled my hair. "Atta girl, Steph. And while I admire your plotting and evil scheming, I really don't want to have to bail you out of jail tonight. So, I have, using my powerful intellect and cunning, come up with another plan. A plan which you are free to use, and that I pretty much guarantee will work. Only thing is that it's a slow burner, and won't offer immediate results, but I strongly believe that it will work in the end. And if it doesn't then well, you've lost nothing."

I took a long pull of beer. Oh boy, just what on earth had Bobby dreamt up? "Go on."

He grinned. "You'll love this, it's a classic."

"Well?" I demanded impatiently as I glanced at my watch; my break was nearly over.

"Make him jealous."

Huh? "Bobby, er… am I missing something here? How on earth do I do that?"

"Simple, you date his best friend."

Oh. "Oh, right, er…"

"Come on Steph, I'm not that bad, am I?"

I looked at him closely in the glow from the back door light. 6' 3" of solid chocolate colored muscles, beautiful brown eyes, shoulder length cornrows, a killer smile and what looked like a fabulous ass. Hmm, it wasn't like it would be a hardship. "No, not at all, it's not that I don't, you know, I do, but…"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You don't think I'm unattractive, but you don't want to date me, is what you're trying to say."

I nodded.

"Don't worry, Steph., just think of it as a favor for a friend. And now, with plan Make Lester Crazy with Jealousy dealt with, let me escort you back to work.

Bobby draped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug; he smelt fresh, citrusy and oh so very yummy. My hormones did the mamba and I closed to eyes, hoping that my body would behave itself. Crap, this plan would only work if Bobby never touched me again. Ever. Oh shit! How do I get myself into these situations?


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks to all who gave me feedback on this fic. Some great thoughts coming from you all. Damn, the only problem is that now I'm going to end up making some of you unhappy. I'm really sorry, but I can't please everyone, I just hope I don't upset too many of you by how this story turns out. Thanks also for all the wonderful reviews; my muse was elated and she loves you all. And lastly, hugs to Katbaby for kicking my muse.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Ten**

I glanced at my watch and let out a long sigh. It was nearly midnight and time for me to turn into a pumpkin, or something along those lines. Actually, it was time for me to face facts; I wasn't going to the ball tonight. A couple of the guys had offered to hang around until I'd finished my shift so I could catch a ride, but Lester, the rat bastard, had insisted that they all leave together for Dante's. Something about it being Tank's birthday and no one should miss out on the fun by arriving late, except, it seemed, me.

Right now I was beginning to think that Bobby's cunning plan was just a waste of time, of both mine and his. Lester had spent all night swapping spit with Gloria, with her firmly ensconced upon his lap for the best part of the evening. In truth, if it wasn't for Tank's quick reactions, the evening could have ended very differently. Just as the guys were leaving, I went over to give Tank a hug and wish him a happy birthday, when Botox Girl tapped me on the shoulder, handed me a dollar bill and told me that the tip represented about what I was worth, and that maybe I should stick to waiting tables instead of trying to date men way out of my league. Tank had forcibly pulled me into a bear hug to stop me from retaliating, and Manny and Hal had the difficult task of restraining Lula and Connie. Tank had then snapped at Lester to control his date and Lula had gotten the last word in, shouting at Gloria as Lester hurried her out of the door.

I grinned when I remembered what Lula had yelled at Botox Girl. "Girl," she'd said in a threatening tone, "If you were so damn high class, you wouldn't be wearing a knock off dress and shoes, and carrying a fake handbag. Hell, all of you is fake; your clothes, your tits, your face! I know hookers who look and dress better than you do, you skank!"

Gotta love Lula. I didn't get to see Gloria's face during this outburst, as my nose was being smooshed against Tank's chest, but from what Connie had told me afterwards, she'd not been a very happy bunny, and that even Ranger had smirked. The girls had offered to stay behind and the three of us go out in Trenton, but it wasn't fair on them or their dates, I mean, come on, it was Tank's birthday, and it wouldn't have been right for him to be without Lula. Still, there was always next year, right?

The hoards of customers had died down and it was just a handful of regulars left. I cleared another table, nodded to Carla to let her know I was going on a break and skulked into the kitchen feeling shitty and grumpy.

Shorty looked up from his paper. "You could get a taxi, hon."

"To Newark?" I looked at him like he was crazy.

He shrugged. "Just a thought."

I grabbed his smokes off the shelf, stood in the back doorway and lit one up, grimacing as I inhaled. "Can you get menthol next time?"

"Next time you can get your own, Steph."

I stuck my tongue out at him and then turned to stare out into the darkness of the alley. My life sucked sometimes, it really did. Why did I feel like I was still being punished for messing things up with Lester? Guess I only had myself to blame; just like Bobby had said in the parking lot of Dante's, it was all about consequences. Did I really want Lester back? Or was I just still mad over my own stupidity? After tonight's display, I was beginning to think that there was a dark side to Lester that I'd not seen before; petty and spiteful. Hell, with the shit he'd pulled this evening, his antics reminded me of Morelli. It was just the sort of immature bullshit that Joe would have done, and I'd dumped his sorry ass. Where was Wonder Woman when I needed her? You know what? Fuck Lester, I was going to go to this party for Tank and I'd be damned if I was going to let Lester or Gloria ruin it for me or anyone else. With a bit of luck I'd be able to sweet talk Shorty into letting me get my wages early; I'd been saving up for this night out for weeks, and only had enough money for either a taxi, or drinks and the cover. I'd be living on cheap bread and peanut butter for the next month, but it wasn't like I was unfamiliar with existing hand to mouth. I could always cover a few extra shifts here if the worst came to the worst.

"What the heck are you doing standing around out here, Steph?"

I looked up to see Bobby striding down the alley. "Why aren't you ready, doll?"

"Who, what…" What indeed was he doing here?

"You going out dressed like that?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, trying to get my brain to connect with it and be able to form a coherent sentence.

Bobby stopped in front of me and put a hand on his hip. "Fine, come on, you can get changed in the car, and I'll fix your makeup in the parking lot when we get there."

I shook my head, "But…"

"I'm taking Steph to Newark, man!" he shouted to Shorty through the open door.

"You look after her, Brown, or I'll be having words with your mother, you hear me?" Shorty said with a grin as he handed me my shoulder bag.

Bobby gave him a mock salute, took my hand and towed me down the alley to the Rangeman SUV that was sat at the curb.

I boosted myself into the cab and finally got my brain and mouth to work at the same time. "You came back," I said tearfully.

"Of course," he replied as he pulled off an illegal U-turn and headed back towards Newark. "Couldn't let you miss out on the party, doll."

I leant over as far as I could and just managed to kiss him on the cheek.

Bobby glanced at me and then looked back at the road. "What was that for?"

"For being an amazing guy; my knight in shining armor. I wasn't going to go, and then I changed my mind, but I'd have been broke for weeks just getting to the club. So thank you for saving me from a month of living like a pauper and having to pull extra shifts just to make ends meet."

He reached over and squeezed my knee gently. "Any time you need anything, you just have to ask, you should know that by now."

I smiled at his comments. "I do, and thank you. But you shouldn't have come back to get me; you're missing the party."

"Tank wants you there, you're his friend, the guys want you there, and so do Connie and Lula. No way I was going to leave you to get there by yourself; not your fault that you had to work."

"Still don't know how I managed to convince Shorty to let me finish early," I mused.

Bobby coughed.

I turned to look at him. "Something you're not telling me, Brown?"

He just shrugged and carried on looking straight forwards.

"Bobby," I snapped. "What are you hiding?"

He looked a little sheepish. "My parents own a lot of real estate, including the building that Shorty's is in. So I kinda… I just, you know, asked him a favor."

Oh crap. "Did you threaten my boss?"

Bobby laughed. "No! Just explained how it would be cool if you could finish early, and that I wouldn't mention to my parents that he still hadn't fixed the front window after some drunk put his fist through it."

"Anything else you think you need to tell me?" I asked. I couldn't believe that Bobby had put in a word with my boss to get me the time off work to go to Tank's birthday.

"Nope, I think that about covers it. You still need to get changed, don't mind me, I won't look."

I rummaged about in my bag. Shit, how on earth was I supposed to get into a corset, a black leather mini skirt, stockings and thigh high boots in the front of a moving Ford SUV? "Err, I think we have a problem."

"Explain."

I outlined my outfit, and Bobby nodded thoughtfully. "I can see your problem, doll. How about I stop at a gas station on the way and you can use the bathroom there?"

"Nice plan, but how do I lace the corset up?"

"I could come in with you – no, now that would just look dodgy, wouldn't it?" he said with a shit eating grin.

Bobby snapped his fingers. "Got it, how about you wait until we get there and then I'll put the seats down in the back so you can change. That should give you enough room. Sound like a plan?"

"It'll do," I responded. "I won't look amazing, but I'll look presentable enough."

"Sweetheart, you'll look just fine. You could wear a trash bag and still look a million times better than that... What did Lula call her again?"

"A skank."

"Yeah." Bobby shuddered. "God only knows where Lester found that piece of trash. He better not be letting her stay at the warehouse, Ranger would have a cow."

I tried not to picture Lester banging Gloria in that amazing bed of his, I really did, but the nasty image popped into my head anyway, and it was my turn to shudder.

Bobby looked at me suspiciously. "Tell me you didn't just think what I think you're thinking."

I bit my lower lip and refrained from answering.

"Eeewwww!" he shrieked, "Now I'm thinking it too. Man, I so did not want that image in my brain. Quick, do something, anything, turn the radio on, for Christ's sake, woman!"

* * *

"Hey, watch it," I gasped out as Bobby shoved his knee in my back and pulled the lacing tight on my corset. "I'd like to be able to breathe, you know."

"Wimp," Bobby teased. "It's not that tight."

"It's not you that's wearing it, buster," I grumbled. "You men have no idea just what women have to go through to look good."

"I beg to differ," he muttered.

I peered over my shoulder to look at him in the dim interior of the truck; he looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"You what?" I asked.

He shook his head rapidly, making the black and red beads in his corn rows clink together. "Oh no, no way, I've said way too much already."

"Bobby," I whined, "Please, come one, tell me what you know about wearing women's undergarments." Damn, I was intrigued. Was he a cross dresser in his spare time?

I turned around to face him, not an easy feat to achieve in thigh high boots in a cargo hold, and then gave him my cute and innocent look.

His shoulders slumped in defeat and I knew that he was going to spill. He sat back on his heels and held up his hand. "Pinky swear that what I say goes no further."

"Pinky swear? Are we still in the 5th grade?"

He rolled his eyes. "We can spit on our palms and shake on it if you like."

Yuck! "Nope, a pinky swear is fine by me."

We shook on it and Bobby ran his hands over his face before letting out a sigh. "You ever seen that film, The Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

I looked at him incredulously. "I did go to college."

"Right, er… so I went to see it a few times when I was younger…"

I shrugged. Like that was a big deal; half the guys in the country must have dressed up in drag to go see that film. "So that's your dirty secret? That's pathetic, Bobby."

"There's more, Steph. I was in the drama club and we did a production of it."

Now that was more like it. I smiled at the image of a younger Bobby in college. "Who did you play?"

"Frank."

Oh my God! "Wow," was all I managed to say.

He smiled. "So now you know where my knowledge of women's underwear and makeup comes from."

"Handy skills to have, Bobby; I'd just presumed that you were gay or a drag queen on weekends."

Bobby did a rather spectacular impression of a gold fish.

"Cat got your tongue?" I quizzed cheekily as I grabbed my purse and slid out of the car, leaving a silent and shell shocked Bobby behind.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed that last chapter. I know I haven't replied personally to them all, but I wanted to finish this chapter as the muse is still behaving. I figure you'd rather have more Cake now, than have to wait four months for the next installment. So anyway, my muse is whispering things and I know I held out for 10 chapters, and I started this as a bit of fun fluff, but it's now taken a turn towards my usual angst and mayhem. There's a slight dig at Ranger in this chapter, but I still love him, so don't throw rotten veg at me. Hugs to the JP crew for hand holding and info.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Eleven**

"What color?"

"Black."

"Just black?"

"Company policy, and I'm working tonight."

I selected a black bead from the small, battered tin on the couch next to me, and worked it onto a cornrow, securing the braid with a matching black rubber band. "What time?"

"Graveyard shift; finish at 6AM," he said with a heavy sigh. "What about you?"

I picked up the next bead. "Working? Nope, Sunday's my one free night in the week, so I'm off to my parents for dinner. Mind you, news travels fast, even from Newark. It might be better for me to avoid my mother; she'll have been drinking and ironing all day."

Bobby shifted slightly. "God my ass is going numb; this floor is damn hard."

I looked down at him sat between my legs with this back to me, dressed in nothing but a pair of tatty grey sweats. "You can always fix your hair yourself, buster."

"No, carry on, I'll survive. Anyway, it wasn't like last night was your fault. You couldn't predict what went down at Dante's, and as I recall, Lula did most of the damage."

"I liked that club," I groused. "Now I'm going to be barred for life."

"Doll, you're not barred, and neither is Lula; my parents own the building, and my cousin, T.J is the manager. I spoke to T.J last night, and he's cool with you and Lula. He might have banned Gloria though, she did damage property."

"Only because Lula hit her with it," I grinned. "Thank T.J for me next time you see him, will you?. Still can't believe what happened, I mean, one minute Lula was standing at the bar, and the next, she'd thrown Gloria on a pool table and was trying to beat her to death with a pool cue."

Bobby let out a bark of laughter. "What got me was the fact the Tank just stood there and smiled. He said later that it was the best birthday present he'd ever had."

"The whole incident was rather spectacular, and to think that we almost missed it. I never did get to taunt Lester by dancing with you last night. I wore those boots for nothing, my feet are still killing me."

"I appreciated those boots, hell, I think most of the guys in the club appreciated those boots. I know I saw Ranger looking at those boots, Steph," Bobby teased.

"Don't talk to me about Ranger," I growled as I pulled hard on one of his braids.

"Hey! Watch the 'do, darlin'; takes ages to get it to look like this," he said in mock outrage. "And not talk to you about Ranger, huh? I don't see what there is to talk about anyway. You circled around each other for a couple of years, hopped into bed together once, and the fates never saw fit to get the planets in alignment for anything more."

My hands dropped away from his hair and I blinked back tears. How was it that Bobby was able to define the relationship I'd had with Ranger so well? And more importantly, how did he know that I'd slept with Ric?"

"In answer to your unspoken questions, we could all see what was going on with you and Ranger, and Hector overheard the conversation you had while he was fitting your alarm system. The guy can speak English when he wants to."

"Oh." Very eloquent, Steph.

"The whole world could see the attraction between you and Ric, so my money was on you."

"What do you mean that your money was on me?" I said with a frown.

"You mean that you didn't know, that he didn't tell you?"

I had a sudden, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "What didn't Ranger tell me?"

"I just figured you knew, "Bobby whispered. "Shit, forget I said anything."

"Bobby, just tell me, damn it!"

He turned around and knelt between my knees, taking my hands in his, but didn't make eye contact. "That you were his Trenton woman. There was Justine in Miami, Helena in Boston and Laura in Atlanta, but we all thought that he really liked you and he'd ditch the others, that you'd be the one he'd settle down with, well settle down Ric style anyway – you know what I mean. Seems that he fell for Justine in the end. I'm sorry, Steph."

"This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy," I whispered as tears splashed down my cheeks.

"What doesn't call for a ring? I don't understand, doll," he said quietly as he brushed my tears away with his fingertips.

"Ranger's love," I answered. "That's what he told me. I can sure see why now, the bastard."

"You okay, honey?"

I wiped my face dry with the sleeve of the oversized Henley that I'd borrowed from Bobby when I got up this morning. "I will be. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, right?"

"Something like that, doll," he said with a sad smile. "Let me fix you some breakfast, or should that be lunch?" He glanced at his watch. "I'll go make lunch. Anything you fancy in particular?"

"Fat and sugar," I replied with a sigh.

"Waffles?"

"Waffles sound like a damn fine idea Bobby, but let me finish your hair first."

He repositioned himself with his back to me and let me finish off his hair. If nothing else, it was therapeutic and calming, which was just what I needed after that bombshell. It wasn't Bobby's fault that I didn't know I was only getting 25 percent of Ranger's love and affection, though looking back, I wasn't surprised. I mean the man was a walking sex god who had women throwing themselves at his feet. Did I honestly think that he'd been celibate during the couple of years we danced around each other? In the back of my mind I'd always wondered what he got up to and with whom. Shit, it wasn't like I'd been lacking in the sex department, I'd been sleeping with Joe most of the time anyway.

What was it with me and relationships? Huh, maybe Ranger was sort of right, it was just that all my relationships were unhealthy. What the fuck happened to love, fireworks, passion and commitment? Seems that I was an idiot who always grabbed hold of the fireworks and decided to face the music the morning after. Well, least I'd not slept with Bobby, we were just friends.

"Bobby?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Gloria is upstairs with Les?"

"Nope. I overheard Ranger talking to him while the paramedics loaded the skank into the ambulance. Ric said something along the lines of ditch the bitch. Tank was looming behind Ric for emphasis too, just in case Lester didn't get the message. I don't think anyone liked her."

"Did he go to the hospital with her?"

Bobby shook his head and I smacked him across the ear. "Sit still!"

"Sorry, and I don't know where Les went after all the chaos, I was too busy staring at your boots," he replied cheekily.

"Enough with the boots," I chastised, as I remembered Lester's reaction to my boots the night we slept together. Crap.

"What am I going to do, Bobby?"

"Eat waffles and stop dwelling on shit?"

"In the long run, I mean. I've been thinking about what you said outside Shorty's last night and I think we should scrap the plan. To be honest, I think I just need to take break from men right now, get myself back on my feet and then worry about Lester."

"What do you mean get yourself back on your feet?"

"Try and get a better job and place to live."

"There's always a job and apartment for you at Rangeman, doll."

"Bobby, I don't want to work for Rangeman. I'm sick of you guys having to bail me out of the shit, I want to be able to stand on my own two feet for a change. Working at Shorty's and living on Stark is not how I want to spend the rest of my life, but I need to make my own luck."

Bobby was quiet for a moment. "I know T.J needs staff, but waiting tables at Dante's is not much better than waiting tables for Shorty, I guess. Sorry I can't be of any more help. You thought any more about becoming a private investigator?"

"Sort of, maybe, I don't know. I'm not sure what I want to do, I-"

I was cut off as Bobby's cell rang. He snatched it off the coffee table in front of him and flipped it open. "Yo."

"What do you mean it's early?"

"Shit, no I haven't fucking sorted it out yet! When's it coming in?"

"Tonight? I'm fucking working tonight, Jamie. I've got nowhere to stash it, it'll have to wait."

Bobby tensed. "Yeah, you call dad and rat me out, you little shit. I'm only getting involved in this cluster fuck because I owe him one."

"No, I don't fucking care. I've still not got a buyer lined up, so you can just sit on it until I've got something sorted out."

"Are you fucking nuts? I'm not bringing that shit into my apartment, I'd lose my damn job, _brother_," he jerked to his feet and began pacing the room.

"Are you threatening me, Jamie? You don't want to mess, believe me." Bobby hung up and threw the cell across the room, where it hit the partition wall, shattered and scattered across the hard wood floor.

"Bobby, you okay?" I breathed. What the hell was going on?

Bobby shook himself, like he was coming out of some kind of trance. "What? Sorry, Steph. Look, something's come up, I think you better leave."

Something was wrong, even I could see that. And that phone call, what the fuck had that been about? I wasn't going anywhere until I had some answers. "Look, something's wrong, let me help you."

Bobby slammed his fist into the brick wall leaving a bloody mark behind. "You want to help, huh? Fine, go ahead, you go store ten crates of illegal weapons in your apartment then," he growled as he stalked into the kitchen.

And cue my ever frequent impersonation of a goldfish. Holy crap! This was Bobby; sweet, caring, sexy, wouldn't hurt a fly unless he had to Bobby. Why the hell was he dealing in illegal guns? And was his brother at it too?

I marched into the kitchen, tugging the borrowed Henley down to cover my ass, and poked Bobby in the chest. "Sit!" I demanded.

He glared at me and turned away, but I grabbed hold of his arm, kicked a chair out from under the kitchen table and shoved, spilling him backwards into the seat. "Look at me," I growled.

Bobby looked up and glared.

"Can the attitude, Bobby. It sounds to me that you have a serious problem going on here, and I want to help. I'm your friend; tell me what is going on. Please."

His features softened ever so slightly. "Can you pass me the dish towel, doll?"

I grabbed it off the counter; he pressed it against his ruined hand, and turned around. "You see this?" he said, gesturing to the large tattoo on his back.

I nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty, so?"

"It's pretty? Shit Steph, do you even know what it means?" he yelled angrily.

"No, but whatever it is, I don't care, Bobby. It doesn't change who you are, you're a good man."

He pounded his uninjured fist on the table. "I'm in a fucking gang, doll!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Twelve**

_His features softened ever so slightly. "Can you pass me the dish towel, doll?"_

_I grabbed it off the counter; he pressed it against his ruined hand, and turned around. "You see this?" he said, gesturing to the large tattoo on his back._

_I nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty, so?"_

"_It's pretty? Shit Steph, do you even know what it means?" he yelled angrily._

"_No, but whatever it is, I don't care, Bobby. It doesn't change who you are, you're a good man."_

_He pounded his uninjured fist on the table. "I'm in a fucking gang, doll!"_

* * *

"You know what? I think you just better leave, Steph," Bobby stated quietly and calmly, while he tried to stop his hand bleeding with the dish towel.

I looked at him sadly, it was tearing me up inside to see him like this; so damn vulnerable. And so what that he was in a gang? Yes I'd had run ins with gangs before, but I knew Bobby, knew what a good person he was and I wasn't going to let that one tattoo cloud my judgment of him. I'd still trust him with my life.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, Bobby," I responded tonelessly. "I'll get dressed and leave. You know how to get hold of me if you need anything."

I walked into the guest room, pulled on my work skirt, Vans, but no socks, and slid my bra on under the Henley. I'd wash the top and return it at a later date. My outfit from last night went back into my bag and I was done. Bobby was nowhere in sight when I called the elevator, or when I climbed in and shut the door.

Shit, what the hell was I going to do about Bobby? He really didn't seem to want to get involved with the crap that was going down, his brother sounded nasty and I had a bad feeling about all this. I needed help, I needed… Lester.

I couldn't believe I was about to do this. What was I, nuts? Yeah, it sure seemed that way. I punched the button for the top floor and prayed that Bobby had been right about Gloria not being upstairs, and that also Lester was home. Wonder how he's going to react when I walk in looking disheveled and wearing Bobby's top. Oh stuff him, he can think what he likes.

The cage rattled up one floor and I heaved the gate open, calling out for Lester as I went. Nothing. A brief scan of the place told me that he wasn't in, unless he was still in bed at 2 in the afternoon. With serious trepidation I crept up to his bedroom, and was just about to put my ear to the door when it flew open. I lost my balance and crashed into a gun wielding, stark naked, and smelling like a brewery, Lester. He staggered backwards and we both went down in a tangle of limbs. This day was going from bad to worse.

I hastily scrabbled to my feet and backed up, giving him space to stand. Shit, he looked pissed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he demanded, as he gestured towards me with the Glock that was still in his hand.

"I need some help," I stated calmly.

He reached out and tugged roughly at the Henley. "Looks like Bobby's helping you already. What?" he laughed sardonically, "You think 'cos he's my best friend that maybe I'll come down stairs and you can have us both? Is that what you want?"

I glared and planted my hand on my hips. "Shut the fuck up, Lester. I've come to you for help because Bobby is your best friend. Trust me, I rather be anywhere other than here right now, and for your information, I'm not sleeping with Bobby. His brother called him, and I don't know what to do."

Lester seemed to instantly sober up. "Which one?"

"Which what?"

"Brother, damn it!"

He had more than one brother? "Jamie, I think he called him."

"Fuck!"

He grabbed a pair of leathers off the chaise, tugged them on and half fastened them, leaving them to ride low on his hips, then seized me roughly by the elbow, dragged me into the kitchen and shoved me towards the table. "Sit down and tell me everything that you know."

He turned away from me and began to fix some coffee while I tried to replay the phone conversation in my head and not look at the nail marks that marred his back, or how the tight leather pants hugged his ass. Focus, damn it, I chastised myself.

"Okay, Jamie called and said that something was arriving tonight and Bobby needed to deal with it. Bobby told him that he was working, had no where to put it, and that so far he'd got no buyer. I think Jamie got pissed and must have said something about their father, and Bobby yelled that he was only doing this because he owed his dad one. There was a bit more, but I think it was mostly cussing and swearing.

"I asked him what was going on, if I could help, and he went crazy; punched the wall and said that I could only help if I could store ten crates of illegal weapons for him. Which I can't and won't, just in case you were wondering. So then I pushed the issue a little more, and Bobby got mad again, explaining to me that he's in a gang and then he threw me out."

Lester thumped a couple of coffee mugs onto the counter and swore. "Go get my cell off the night stand."

What did he think I was? His damn maid?

He turned around when I didn't move. "Well?"

"A please would help, Lester," I shot back.

"Please," he ground out as he sloshed coffee into the two cups.

"See, that wasn't difficult, was it?" I responded tartly as I stomped off to his room.

It hadn't changed since I was last here, and I didn't see any sign of Gloria ever sleeping over; no scattered underwear or a stash of makeup. See, she'd obviously never sullied his bed. That's it; keep thinking happy thoughts and keep up the denial, Steph. I snatched up his phone and hot footed it back to the kitchen before the memories of that night totally resurfaced.

Lester took the cell and handed me a cup of coffee. I leant against the breakfast bar and watched him warily as he slammed cabinet doors shut and banged crockery down on the counter.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" I asked as I took a sip of black coffee. I hated my coffee black, but I was not about to ask for cream and sugar, not with the mood Lester was in right now.

He punched buttons on his phone and glanced at me. "Let me make some calls first, and then I'll explain."

Lester rested his ass against the table and planted a bare foot on the chair that I'd been sat on. He ran his free hand through his hair, pulling roughly at knots and tangles, and then had a brief conversation with someone in rapid-fire Spanish. Call over, he shut his phone, slid it into his back pocket and then dragged both hands through his mussed hair. Guess that was a sign of frustration or worry, as I'd never seen him do it before.

"You sure you want to know what's going on?" he asked quietly.

"Yes." I couldn't help Bobby if I didn't know the full background to his situation.

"Most of his family is in a gang; think something like the Mafia or the Triads, not a bunch of punks like the Slayers. His parents are pretty much top of the heap, so to speak and they have a huge legitimate real estate empire that they use as cover to sell and distribute drugs, guns and illegal labor, and also launder any dirty money they happen to have. It's a huge operation, though Bobby's always tried to keep out of it and stay on the straight and narrow. Every so often he ends up getting dragged back into the family business; it's usually his father extracting payment for a favor or blackmailing him. Man, his father, Daniel, is a nasty piece of work; Jamie's just a little shit," he shook his head and grimaced before taking a sip of coffee.

Crap, this was huge, awesome – a heck of a lot to try and process. But what I didn't understand was why Bobby had the tattoo if he didn't want a hand in the family firm. "But why the tattoo? If he's straight, I mean why would he do that?"

"You don't want to know, trust me," Lester stated matter-of -factly.

"No, I do," I responded.

"Look, I feel like shit and am in desperate need of sugar and fat. Let me make some – what time is it?"

"After 2pm."

"Right. You want some waffles?"

What was it with these guys and waffles? Shit, it felt like I woke up this morning in the twilight zone or something. "Okay, time out! Yesterday you were being a petty, spiteful bastard and today you want to feed me waffles – just what the fuck is going on with you, Lester?"

A blank mask that was eerily similar to Ranger's appeared on his face. "I don't know what you mean."

"Right, and I'm the queen of Sheba," I retorted.

"Fine! You want to know?"

"Yes, damn it! I think I have a right to know why you're treating me like shit."

"Because I don't want to get close to you again and have you rip my heart out in the morning. Do you even have any idea just how long I'd wanted you?"

What the hell could I say to that? I just shook my head instead.

"Since the first time I saw you on that job we did with Ric, Bobby and Tank. For three years I sat there waiting for you to stop messing around with Morelli, and for Ric to step up or leave you the fuck alone, and then I just fucking blew it! I knew that I should have waited for Joe to be completely out of the picture, but I just couldn't help myself, just couldn't resist you any longer…"

He was totally crazy. "Hang on, so let me get this straight, you're treating me like dirt to stop us from having sex, in case I walk out in the morning?"

He nodded.

"You're an idiot," I responded, feeling slightly shell shocked.

He simply shrugged and went to refill his mug.

The nerve of the guy! "You know what, forget I was even here. I've had enough revelations today about the men who aren't currently in my bed, so you can deal with Bobby and his problems. I am going home to eat ice cream and watch Ghostbusters before someone else drops another emotional cluster fuck in my lap."

"Steph, look-"

"No, you look! I had to spend last night being humiliated by you and that piece of trash, and then find out today that Ranger was fucking three other women when he slept with me, one of my best friends is dealing in illegal arms, and you think you can justify your actions towards me with the lame excuse of not wanting to get hurt. Just leave me the hell alone," I snarled as I grabbed my bag and stalked towards the elevator.

I'd made it half way across the lounge when Lester grabbed me by the arm. "Stop, please."

"Let the fuck go," I gritted out.

He released his grip. "Steph, I'm sorry. Just… please stay. Let me explain."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Well?"

He ran his hands through his hair again, tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "I need to eat, I can't do this right now. Look, let me sort some food and then I'll tell you everything. I know I'm an emotional cripple, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it. At least let me explain why I do what I do."

"Okay, and you'll finish telling me about Bobby?"

"Yeah, though it ain't pretty," he said with a sigh.

"I don't think anything will faze me now," I muttered as I followed him back into the kitchen. Men! Why couldn't I find one who wasn't nuts?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews. I'm sorry if I missed anyone. Very angsty chapter, this one. And references I make to the Battle for Mogadishu in '93 are in no way shape or form meant in a negative way. I don't think it comes across like that, but I don't want to offend anyone. Lastly, thanks to Lisa for helping with my plot issues.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"So, you fancy some waffles?"

Aaargh! Yeah, so I could stick them… "That'll be fine," I gritted out as I retrieved my almost cold coffee and took a drink. Man, this stuff was awful. I grimaced as I swallowed the mouthful, and then eyed up the coffee maker. "You mind if I make more coffee?"

"Sure, go ahead." Lester wandered around the kitchen, gathering together the stuff to make waffles.

It was interesting to watch him potter about; he seemed so at ease, though he tensed up when his cell rang. Another conversation in Spanish ensued, and he was back to tearing at his hair. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn't good news.

He hung up and I looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"The drop's 9pm tonight at Dante's; ten crates of RPG's and similar shit. Hell, Bobby doesn't need this crap right now; we have to do something."

And then I had another one of my crazy ideas. "What if we…" No, this really was stupid.

Lester looked at me seriously. "No, go on, I've not got a clue what to do."

I chewed on my lower lip. This plan was nuts, and I'd be in serious shit if I got caught. "Call Jamie, tell him we're picking it up instead."

"You have to be kidding me?" he exclaimed.

"No. Maybe we could store it downstairs with the rest of Rangeman's weapons. You said yourself that no one knows about this place, so who'd think of looking here for it. We just have to hold onto it long enough to find a buyer, or raise the cash to pay off Jamie or whoever, and then destroy it."

Lester shook his head. "I'm not selling it. I'd rather destroy it, but we're talking $300,000 here, where the fuck are we going to get that sort of money, Steph?"

"I honestly don't know. What if Rangeman buys it?"

Lester snorted, almost choking on his coffee. "Yeah, I can just see that conversation going down real well with Ric. 'Hey cousin, can I have $300,000 out of petty cash to buy a load of arms so I can destroy them to keep Bobby out of the shit?"

I gave him my pissy look and filled up the coffee maker. "So what do you suggest?"

He let out a sigh. "That you're right, we pick the shit up and stash it here. But after that, I have no clue. Man, Ric's going to kill me if he finds out about this."

"Does he know about Bobby?"

He shot me a 'well duh' look. "Of course he does – helps to have inside intel on the dark underbelly of Trenton."

This whole situation sucked. "Tell me about his tattoo."

"Okay, you know I said that Bobby didn't want to get involved?"

"Yeah."

"Well, his family weren't too happy with his choice, and decided to make an example out of him. He went to see his father a couple of days after he told them he was out, just to clear the air, and ended up being drugged. Once he was out cold they carted him off to the tattoo parlor and got him inked. It's usually a just small gang tattoo, but his father thought it would be funny for it to cover his whole back; a subtle warning to not cross him again."

Holy shit! "That's awful…" What else could I say?

Les nodded. "Yeah, but we both reckon he got off lightly; could have been a lot worse, like fatally worse. You don't cross the East Coast Brotherhood, Steph."

I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I'm still not sure that this is such a good idea, Lester. Maybe we could just call the police, get them to deal with this."

He shrugged. "Possibly, but then this shit could end up coming back at Bobby somehow. We need to keep him out of this."

"So we go to the source and take out the guys before they make the drop, and then call the police in. If it's not in the hands of the Brotherhood, then if the shit hits the fan, no one is going to suspect that either us or Bobby had a hand in this." Where the hell do I get these ideas from? Shit, I was starting to scare myself.

"Nice, you sure you've never worked for the government? You are one cunning, cold and calculating bitch when you have to be," he said with what seemed to be genuine respect.

"I'd do almost anything to help my friends, and Bobby needs my help. He may not know it yet, but I do; I have a bad feeling about this whole thing and I don't want to see him hurt," I replied as I poured fresh coffee. "Where do you keep the sugar and cream?"

"Glass jar in the left hand cupboard, and in the fridge," he said as he looked at me intently. "You really care about him, don't you?"

I glanced over at Lester as he cracked a couple of eggs in a bowl and set about mixing the batter for the waffles. "Like I said, Lester, Bobby's my friend. Besides, he's one of the few people I know who have been there for me recently. No matter what has happened in the last couple of months, he's been willing to help me out; even if it's just been a shoulder to cry on."

"He's a decent guy," Lester commented.

"How long have you know him?"

Lester smiled and cocked his head, like he was remembering something. "Too long. Going on ten years now; met at college and both of us dropped out to join the army. I was bored with university and Bobby wanted to get away from his family; guess it worked out for well for both of us."

Wow, it was nice to hear one of the Rangeman guys opening up about their past. "So you were with Ranger and Tank in the forces?"

He turned the waffle iron on and poked at the batter with the whisk. "Sort of. We were all Rangers at one point, but Ric and Tank are older, so no, never all at the same time. Hell, they were in Mogadishu in '93, while I was still in high school."

I paused, coffee mug half way to my mouth. "Like in that film, Black Hawk Down?"

"Yeah."

Oh my God. "That mission was crazy, wasn't it?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know, they don't talk about it; don't blame them."

Just like that, he shut down and I knew that the topic was closed. Nice going, Steph. "Let's go over tonight again," I suggested as a way to change the subject.

His demeanor changed instantly, from closed off, back to the usual Lester. "We need to pull off a hit on the supplier, and then call the P.D in to collect the stuff. I'll make some calls after lunch to get a fix on where this shit's coming from, and then plan the Op."

"When you say hit, do you mean kill?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me like I was nuts. "Yeah, why?"

I shook my head rapidly, "No reason, don't mind me."

"What did you think we were going to do, Steph?"

"There is no 'we,' and I thought you were going to knock them out or stun them, or something."

Lester let out a bark of laughter. "Oh Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie… _We_ have to make it look like another gang got the drop on them, and no gang member is going to stun someone, now is he?"

"No, but I don't see why I have to get involved, it's not like you need me to do a distraction, and I can't shoot worth a damn."

"Your plan, you get your hands dirty. Besides, how many guys have you shot dead now? Is it two or three?"

I didn't like where this conversation was going one little bit. "It was self defense. I can't just kill someone for the hell of it!"

"Good job I can then," he responded with an evil smile.

I pinched myself on the arm. Ow! Shit, I wasn't dreaming. "I came to you for help, not to get involved in murder."

"Fine, we'll forget all about it then."

Lester was fucking crazy. "But what about Bobby!" I yelled as I slammed my mug down on the counter, splashing hot coffee everywhere.

"He's a big boy, he'll handle it."

I snorted. "You believe that about as much as I do."

"Maybe, but I can't run this Op. solo, and I'm not getting anyone else at Rangeman involved. Look, I just need you at act as lookout. Do you honestly think I'd ask you to kill someone?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Lester rolled his eyes. "I maybe a bastard, but I'm not a fucking bastard, Steph. I'm as worried about Bobby as you are, and I'm willing to cross the line; that's my choice. I expect you to do what you feel comfortable with, nothing more."

I nodded once. "Okay."

"So you'll help me with this?"

"For Bobby?"

"Yeah Steph, for Bobby."

"Yes." Damn, I was so going to hell. Lester poured batter into the waffle iron and the hot coffee churned in my stomach. I think I'm going to be – no I am going to be sick. I bolted for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me, just making it to the toilet in time.

I finally finished retching a couple of minutes later, and rested my forehead against the cool side of the tub. Just how far was I willing to go to help a friend? Not far enough, it seemed. This was wrong, what Lester had planned, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? I didn't want to see Bobby get hurt.

The door clicked open and I felt Lester kneel down next to me. He pulled me back against him, tipped my head back and placed a cold, damp cloth on my forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll call around a couple of guys I know, get them to help me out. Fuck, I'm such a bastard, I shouldn't have even considered putting you in that situation, Steph."

"No," I rasped out, "I'll do it. I know what you guys would do to keep me safe, what you have done to keep me safe. It's only fair that I reciprocate; I'm just not going to shoot anyone, okay?"

"That's fine with me, darlin'. You still hungry?"

"I want to shower and clean my teeth," I told him.

"Okay, you do that, and I'll call in some back up anyway. Heard a friend was in town, be nice to catch up."

Why did I have the feeling that this _friend_ was as crazy as Lester?

"Come on, sweetheart," Lester said, as he gently helped me to my feet. "Get yourself cleaned up; I'll see if I can find you something to wear."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for – you know…"

"Don't worry about it," he said as he pulled me into a hug

"I still hate you right now, Lester," I muttered.

"Yeah, and I hate you too," he replied cheerfully as he dropped a quick kiss on my forehead and sauntered out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you for all the fantastic reviews. I love each and every one of them and they seem to be inspiring me to try and get a chapter a day out. You guys are the best!

Some of you may recognize Lester's _friend._ He was feeling neglected, and this little job is just up his street. He's the same character, but in this fic he's not connected to anything else I've done - if that makes sense.

I've taken a few liberties with money issues and debt in this chapter. I'm not American, so if I've made a hash of it, I'm sorry.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Fourteen**

I finished off toweling my hair dry, and shrugged on the clothes that Lester had left on the bed; sweats and that damn silk shirt he'd been wearing the night we ended up in bed together. Bastard, I doubted that his choice had been accidental. I think it's time that he and I had a little talk.

I found him on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, working his way through the stack of waffles in front of him. The T.V was on low in the back ground; re-runs of The A Team – how fitting.

"Hey, feel better?" he asked with a fork full of food half way to his mouth. A dollop of chocolate sauce dripped off the waffle and landed smack in the middle of his bare chest. He wiped it away with his finger and then sucked the sauce off. I stifled a moan and he glanced over. "What?"

"Nothing, don't mind me."

He shrugged and went back to watching the T.V.

"I'm not surprised that you watch this show," I commented.

"The A Team are class, Steph. Hell, we get some of our best plans from watching this shit."

"So this is research for tonight?" I asked, feeling even more uneasy about this evening. An Op modeled on an episode of The A Team was bound to end in chaos, and this revelation was doing nothing to calm my nerves.

"Nah, not this time. I'll thrash the plan out with my back up when he arrives." He glanced at his watch. "Should be here any time now."

I nodded, feeling very relieved. "So, do we have time for a little chat before this guy arrives?

"Sure, what about?"

"You."

Lester shifted on the couch, looking very uncomfortable. "What about me?" he asked suspiciously.

I sat down in the arm chair across from him, snagged a waffle and looked him in the eyes. "About your poor treatment of women."

"Ah, well…"

I took a bite and gestured for him to continue. Lester wasn't getting out of this that easily.

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I…"

"Well?"

Lester slid his feet to the floor, put his plate down and sat forward; he clasped his hands together tightly and lowered his gaze. "I don't know what to say, how to start."

"Start at the beginning?" I suggested.

He blew out a breath. "I met this chick just after I got into the Rangers; Catherine was her name. Total stunner, and I thought she was into me, that she could be the one. We dated seriously for a bit, and then I got called up for a trip to Iraq. Next thing I know she's telling me she's pregnant with my baby, and I did the only thing that I could do, moved her into my apartment, asked her to marry me, and set it up so that she'd get my pay. Ten days later I flew out of the country, leaving behind my pregnant fiancé, and hoping that I would get back in time to see my kid born.

"So I got back eight months later, totally freaked out, as I'd not heard a thing from Catherine the whole time, to discover that I'd lost my apartment for nonpayment of rent, and that the bitch had run up thousands of dollars worth of debts in my name. All my savings, wages, possessions – gone, along with that hussy; the little bitch had taken everything. I ended up moving in with Bobby, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a duffle."

What a class A bitch! "I'm sorry, Lester. What about your child?"

"What kid?" he snarled. "She wasn't even fucking pregnant."

And there I had it, the reason why Lester Santos was a player and never tying himself down to a relationship. He took a chance on me and I blew it, so I half understood why he'd behaved the way he had towards me. Kinda hard to hate a guy who's been so royally fucked over like that. Oh he wasn't forgiven, not by a long shot, but at least I had a clue as to why he acted the way he did. "I'm sorry she hurt you, I really am, but not every woman wants to rip your heart out, Lester."

"You did," he snapped.

Touché. "Yeah, and I'm sorry." Great, now look what I've done – I've made Mr. Dysfunctional even more dysfunctional. Nice going, Steph.

"It was both of us, I realize that now," he muttered. "I should have been more understanding about you leaving Joe. I was pretty unreasonable, Steph."

I shrugged. "Yes you were, but I think if you hadn't have done that, it would have been like Ranger and Joe all over again. I needed to realize that denial is not my friend. If you hadn't kicked me out then I'd probably still be living with Joe and trying to play happy families. In the long run you did me a favor. But, that still does not excuse your behavior the other night. If you wanted to move on, then fine, but you could have at least kept your date on a leash.

Lester bit his lip and looked sheepish. "I didn't know that she was a psycho hose beast. I'd only met her a couple of days previous, and I didn't say anything bad about you to her – honestly. I told her that we'd had a thing once, but that was it – nothing more."

"She was a nasty, spiteful gold digger!" I yelled.

"So I was stupid, I didn't know that she was going to turn out to be a total bitch."

"What happened last night? Did you find out if she was okay, or go see her?"

"I called the ER," he said with a shrug. "They just said she was bruised."

I shot him the burg glare. "I hope that you have the common sense to steer clear of her from now on."

"Hell yeah. She can't contact me – I didn't give her my cell and she never came here. In fact, I'll just pretend that it was a nightmare."

I shook my head. "Maybe you'll learn to stop picking up strange women in bars now."

He chuckled. "Probably not; once a player, always a player."

"Lester, it doesn't have to be like that."

A sad smile appeared on his face. "It's who I am, what I do. I don't know how to change, and-"

The security system beeped, signaling someone at the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "That'll be Danny. I better let him in."

Damn, he was a freaking mess, and I wondered what he'd have been like in a serious relationship. Probably totally nuts, and it wouldn't have worked out between us. Well, least I was spared a lot more heartache by it not lasting longer than that one night.

Lester stood in front of the elevator, waiting for the car to arrive. When it finally rumbled to a stop, he tugged the door back and grinned. "Well look what the cat dragged in! How's it going man?"

"You know, same as always, mate," a tall, fucking scary looking bloke responded in an English accent. He must have been at least 6'4" with long black hair and multiple piercings and tattoos. Jeez, where did Lester find this guy?

Les gestured at me. "Danny Turner, meet Stephanie Plum."

I gave him a small finger wave, and he grinned and nodded. "Darlin'."

"You should have told me you were coming to town, bro," Lester chastised.

Danny snorted. "Like that's real fucking covert and beneath the radar, Les."

"And you think I'd say something?" Lester growled.

Danny rolled his eyes. "No, but you know how I like to operate. So, what's the score for tonight then?"

"Couple of X Rays at distance. Think you can handle that?"

"Piece of fucking cake. How's that miserable cousin of yours doin'?"

Lester grinned. "Same as usual. Good job he's not here right now, he still wants your ass for that shit you pulled last year. How's the crew? And more importantly, why's Winter letting you out without a keeper?"

"Ricardo needs to get a sense of humor, the grumpy bugger. The guys are all fine; Lee sends her regards, and says to tell you that you're still a wanker with your head up your arse. I got let out 'cos they're all off playing in Spain with ETA, and I wanted a break."

I looked from Lester to Danny and back again, an uneasy feeling forming in my gut. "ETA as in the terrorist organization?" I asked.

"Well, it certainly don't stand for Estimated Time of Arrival, baby," Danny commented as he flopped down on the couch and set about rolling a cigarette.

This was going to hell in a hand basket. Lester was crazy, Danny was plain fucking nuts and I was simply stupid; stupid for getting involved in this mess.

"What time we rolling out tonight?" Danny asked.

"I'm still waiting on the final details to come through, so I'm not sure," Les responded.

"Fuck," Danny exclaimed with a grin, "We cobbling plans together on the back of fag packets again?"

Eh? "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

Lester translated for me. "Danny wants to know if we're hastily concocting sketchy and ill formed plans."

"Right, well yeah, it sure looks that way." I replied venomously.

Danny ignored my nasty tone. "Cool and groovy, just how I like it. Man, you should come visit more often, Les."

That's it, I'm going home. These two nut jobs are more than capable of dealing with this. I stood up and brushed the waffle crumbs off my borrowed top. "You know what, I think I'll just leave you to catch up."

"Don't mind me, luv," Danny said with a smile. "So, you his current bit of totty then, honey?"

"No."

Danny grinned. "Really, now that is interesting. How about we-"

The alarm system went off again and Danny looked at Lester warily. "You expecting someone else?"

"No," he replied as he got up and glanced at the cameras. "Shit! Oh fuck!"

"Lester?" I asked anxiously. "Who's just arrived?"

He ran his hands though his hair in frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!"

Danny got up and loomed over him. "Do I need to slap you?"

"No!" Lester squeaked. "Ric's here, you need to hide, Danny. Ric doesn't know what's going down tonight."

Hell, I didn't want to see Ranger that much either. I grabbed Danny by the arm and tugged. "Come on, in the bedroom."

"Whoa, you're a bit forward, luv," he said cheekily as he slapped me on the ass.

"Stop that!" I growled as I slammed the bedroom door shut behind us.

Danny mock pouted and collapsed back on Lester's bed. I ignored him and put my ear to the door, trying to hear what was going on.

I could just about here Ranger talking to Les, and as the conversation went on, Ric's voice got louder. I was only catching snatches here and there, but Ranger sounded angry – something about Lester bringing Gloria here. It didn't make sense, but then it dawned on me what Ric had seen. Oh fuck.

"So tell me why there's two coffee mugs and two plates, Santos?" Ric yelled. "I told you not to bring that bitch back here. How dare you disobey my orders. Did you think I'd gone back to Miami already, that you can do what the fuck you like in Trenton when I'm not around?"

His boots thudded on the wood floor and I went flying backwards, landing on my ass as Ranger kicked Lester's bedroom door open. He looked from me to Danny and back again. "Just what the fuck is going on here?" he gritted out.

"Oh, we are so fucking busted," Danny quipped.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I've been out of the country on business. Here's a little bit of Ranger for you all. Enjoy.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Well?" Ranger growled as he crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot impatiently.

Danny folded his arms behind his head, gazed up at his own reflection in the mirrored ceiling above Lester's bed, and ignored Ranger. Lester, who was stood behind his boss, chewed on his finger nails and looked like he was five seconds from running out the door. And me? Well, I just sat on my bruised ass and stared up at Ric, with my Burg glare firmly in place.

"Well, don't help me up then," I muttered, as I hauled myself to my feet, and brushed imaginary dust bunnies off my ass.

Ranger looked me in the eyes and tried his best intimidation techniques, with the hope that I'd turn into a puddle of mush and confess all. "Care to explain?"

I was now immune to Ric's tactics, so I ignored him and risked a glance at Lester instead. Les was shaking his head, waving his hands frantically and wearing a pained expression on his face. I took that to mean don't say anything. At all. Ever.

Ranger was still glaring, so I just smiled sweetly. Score one for the Burg girl. "I'm sorry, explain what?"

He narrowed his gaze and took a step closer to me. "Something's going on."

"We've been making waffles. The A Team was on earlier; you missed a great episode. Danny had just popped in to say hi and we were gonna watch a movie or two and make some popcorn. Want to join us?" I said with a casual shrug. And she shoots, she scores. Take that, Batman.

Ranger looked slightly baffled by my explanation, so turned his attention to Danny instead, maybe hoping that he'd get the intel out of the English merc. Hah, I doubted Danny would let anything slip, unless Ranger set at him with bamboo slivers and water torture. Hell, Danny would probably just beat the shit out of him if he tried that. Ranger was deadly, but somehow I knew that Danny would best him in a fight.

"I didn't know you were in town, Turner," Ranger hissed.

Danny raised an eyebrow and pasted a bored expression on his face. "That's because I'm good, mate; unlike someone else in this room."

Lester put his head in his hands, and Ric growled at Danny, stepping closer to the bed. "You fucked up my mission last year, hell you fucked up a United States government job, you asshole. Why?"

"Money." Danny sat up, and rested his chin on his palm. "We don't all play by the same rules, Ricardo. Your government paid you to take out Dominguez, and we were paid by a third party to do the same job. I'm not going to sit there and let you waltz in and clean up, 'cos then I won't get my cash."

Ranger began to pace the room. "How? You knew I was coming."

Danny smirked. "Oh, we have our ways, Manoso."

"Tell me, damn it," he ground out, as he stalked back towards the bed, fists balled at his sides.

"Oh, what the hell," Danny muttered. "It's not like those damn things have a long battery life, anyway. "You've got a GPS tracker in your left arse cheek."

Ranger's hand instinctively went to his ass, and I bit back a snigger. The Man of Mystery looked well and truly baffled.

"Explain," he demanded.

Danny grinned. "Oh, she's about 5'6", mid twenties, long brown hair…"

"I don't know what you mean," Ranger shook his head.

"Pierced belly button and an English accent. Worked it out yet, or you want another clue?"

It was as if a light bulb popped on above Ranger's head. "Helena from Boston?"

Danny let out a bark of laughter. "That's not her real name, but yeah."

I suppressed a laugh. It seemed that one of Ranger's bed partners was up to no good on behalf of the opposition. Man, this was priceless. Who'd have thought that someone could get one over on the mighty Ranger Manoso?

Ranger shook his head slowly. "But her background checks came back okay…"

Danny smiled evilly. "You background check all your dates, Ranger?"

The rat bastard! Had he checked my background too? "Yeah Ric," I quizzed nastily. "You check up on all your women?"

Ranger glanced at me. "Of course," he replied matter-of-factly. "But I see that someone doctored Helena's history. I take it that was you, Turner?"

My opinion of Ranger sank a few notches. I mean, sure he lead a dangerous life, but to check me out like the criminals he dealt with on a daily basis was a little jarring.

"Who, what, me, Ranger?" Danny grinned. "Nope, not this time. Oh, and Bailey commented that your fire walls are utter bollocks and that a five year old could get past them. My sister also said that you better sort them out before someone makes a real mess of your system."

Ranger was pissed; in fact, I don't think I'd ever seen him this angry. "Well you can tell your sister that if I catch her on American soil I will hand her over to the authorities, there's a couple of million on her head at the moment, and I could do with some pocket change."

"You still pissed off at her over Hamburg?" Danny smirked. "I think you need to grow a pair, Manoso."

"You want me to make a few phone calls, let a few agencies know you're in town causing trouble, Danny?" Ranger spat.

"Oh, fuck you and the horse you rode in on, ya miserable fucker. You think I'm here for the hell of it? Shit, if Lester hadn't called me about the…" Danny shut up instantly.

Ranger turned around and looked at his cousin. "If Lester hadn't called me about the what?"

"Party?" Lester suggested weakly.

"Try again, maybe the truth this time."

Lester scuffed his feet and stared at the floor, suddenly finding great interest in the floor boards. "It's not what it looks like."

Ranger crossed his arms again. "Well?"

And then Lester's cell rang. He glanced at the display and groaned. "I have to take this," he muttered as he fled the room.

"So," Ric looked back at me. "You care to fill in the blanks?"

I looked to Danny, who shrugged and started flipping through the books on the night stand; great help he was.

"Okay, fine. Bobby's got 'family' problems and we're trying to help.

Ranger dropped down gracefully on the couch and nodded for me to continue.

"He's been blackmailed into picking up and selling a shipment of arms. So I went to Lester and we decided to take out the supplier before the drop, making it look like a rival gang hit, and then tip off the cops, letting them find the munitions. That way Bobby is kept out of the whole thing, and no one will know that it was us involved. I don't want to see Bobby in trouble because of his family."

"Fair enough, sounds like a good plan, but why didn't you come to me?" Ranger responded.

I picked my jaw up off the floor; shit I was so not expecting that reaction. "Err, well…" I shrugged. "I don't know."

Ranger shook his head sadly. "So you'll get that lunatic," he gestured at Danny, "involved, but you won't come to me for help? I'm disappointed in you, Steph.

"I…" I opened my mouth a couple of times trying to put a complete sentence together, and gave up.

"Okay, when's this going down?" he asked Danny.

"Tonight, that's all we know so far. I suspect that the phone call is about all the details. We were going to do the job at distance and then get the fuck out of there; nothing flash or fancy."

Ranger frowned. "And then call the cops and get them to clean it up?"

Danny nodded.

"Sloppy. It works until the police ballistics report is leaked to the gang and they realize that their guys were taken out with less than standard ammunition. They're gonna want to know just what the fuck is going on and I doubt it would be pretty as they try and figure it out."

"But there's nothing to connect it to us or Bobby," I retorted.

"Maybe, but if we take them out up close it will look more realistic," Ranger mused.

I threw my hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, whatever! Well, now that the boys are all here, I'm going home."

Lester appeared in the doorway and blocked my exit. "Your plan, you stay."

I shook my head and clutched at straws. "No, Ranger changed the plan, so I can go home."

"Steph's plan?" Ranger quizzed.

Lester nodded.

"Nice, proud of you, babe," he said respectfully. "So, we got all the intel we need, Santos?"

"Yeah, the gear is leaving a warehouse in Newark tonight at 8.30pm. I suggest that we tool up and hustle on over there to see what's going on, and then put the final plan together in situ. Any objections?"

The guys shook their heads and I edged towards the door again, somewhat surprised that Ranger seems so at ease with all this.

"Oh no Steph, you're coming too" Lester said with a grin, "We might need you to pull off a distraction so we can get the drop on these guys. We'll swing by your place on the way out so you can pick some clothes up."

I let out a sigh. "We're not talking classy here, are we?"

"Well, seeing as this place is on the edge of the red light district, no; I think cheap and slutty is the order of the day. Think you can pull that off?"

I slumped against the wall. "I've got nothing to wear," I wailed.

Ranger snorted and Lester choked back laughter.

"What?" I snapped.

"Nothing?" they chorused.

"Look, I got rid of most of my distraction gear when I quit bounty hunting," I responded.

"You're a bounty hunter, that's so cool," Danny interjected.

"I'm a waitress," I snapped. "I do not chase down dumb ass criminals anymore, thank you."

"You'd make more money hunting down criminals that you ever will waitressing," Ranger commented.

"Right," I responded dryly. "So that was why I lived in a shitty apartment and never had any food in my fridge."

"If you'd worked for Rangeman…"

"If I worked for Rangeman I'd have been stuck at a desk all day, drowning in testosterone, while the boys got to run around and chase low lifes, just so you could improve your equal employment figures. I don't need a job at Rangeman and I'm not a pity fuck, so thanks, but no thanks, Ranger."

"You live on Stark and wait tables, Steph!" Ranger gritted out. "You still going to be doing that when you're fifty?"

"And you shoot people for a living, Ranger. You still going to be doing that at fifty?" I shot back angrily.

Ranger smiled smugly. "No, but I'll be sitting back and counting the cash while a bunch of younger guys do it for me instead. You never plan anything do you, babe?"

"Evidently not," I snarled. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go home and go to bed. I've got a busy week of waiting tables ahead of me."

I pushed past Lester and stomped towards the elevator. It was Danny who caught up with me while I was heaving the door open.

He stepped in front of me and smiled. "You should meet my sister; I reckon you'd get on with her like a house on fire."

"Huh?"

"She's got balls and won't let anyone push her around. You walk away today and they've won. You'll never be anything than a bit of skirt to them if you quit, and I know you're worth more than that. Don't do this for them, do this for Bobby and for yourself. What do you say?"


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews. I'm sorry if I missed anyone, but believe me, your kind words are alway appreciated.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?**

**Chapter Sixteen**

I'd called my mother earlier to let her know that I'd be missing dinner. For some crazy reason I'd let slip that I was going out with three men. There'd been a brief pause, followed by a few muttered curses and the clink of glass in the background, and then my mother had politely asked if I'd like to bring my three new boyfriends for dinner. Sheesh! I couldn't cope with one man, let alone three. Needless to say I'd had to explain my way out of the misunderstanding, and the guys' laughter had echoed around the inside of the SUV cab. Bastards. Maybe I should have taken them all to dinner as payback. Heck, my grandma would have loved it, even if they didn't.

The plan was in place; I was going in as a distraction once we'd got a handle on how many guys we were dealing with, and then the boys would sneak up on the bad guys and take them out. Quick, simple and apparently fool proof. Now I just had to get slutted up in the back of the truck. I'd done this last night as well, but somehow that seemed like a life time ago. Last night my only concern was making Lester jealous, and tonight, shit, I had a whole heap of crap on my plate.

I was wearing those boots again, along with a pair of fishnet stockings that had seen better days, the black leather mini skirt and a cropped halter top. I'd not brushed my hair so my curls frizzed out around my face, and my makeup was troweled on about an inch thick. In short I looked like a rundown, once high class hooker, who's drug habit had gotten the better of her. Problem was that even though I'd have an earpiece and mike, there was not enough fabric to cover any body armor. I was surrounded by three men who were armed to the teeth and covered from neck to waist in Kevlar, but little old me had some pepper spray in my handbag and that was it. Talk about going out on a limb, and to say I was shit scared was an understatement. I'd go to church every day for the next year if God let me get out of this little fuck up unscathed.

Someone thumped on the back window; a signal for me to get my act together. I slid from the cab, fluffed my hair again and muttered a few Hail Mary's for good luck.

"Well fuck me," Danny let out a low whistle. "Darlin' you can take care of my business any time you want."

"Shut the fuck up, Turner," Ranger growled. Seemed that he didn't like the way Danny was looking at me; probably because it was the same way he was looking at me.

I pushed between them and rubbed up against Danny just to piss Ric off. "Break it up, boys, there's plenty to go around," I whispered huskily.

Ranger glared, shook his head and stalked off, while Danny and I sniggered like school kids. I was beginning to like Danny, and reckoned that his bark was worse than his bite, so to speak. I think he just liked to try it on with the ladies, like that was just the way he was naturally. Underneath that joker exterior, he was a pretty cool guy, and we'd had an interesting chat while I rummaged through my closet looking for this top. He certainly led an interesting life, that was for sure.

Lester reappeared and handed me my mic and ear piece. The ear piece was a gamble, even though it was tiny, but I'd refused to walk into the takedown without being able to hear what was going on. I hated being kept out of the loop on distractions, but they were in pretty controlled environments with ten guys backing me up. Tonight it was just me, Batman, Robin and Wolverine over there. Pretty damn stupid if you ask me. I popped the ear piece in place, fluffed my hair again to cover my ear, slid the mic in my top, and then readjusted my stockings again for good measure.

I glanced that the guys and nodded. "Okay, I'm good to go, so let get this show on the road. If I get a bad feeling about this the abort word is crimson. Understood?"

They all nodded and began a final check of their armor and weapons. There was something very sexy and deadly about a man in black; all three of them looked hot. Enough, Plum, I chastised myself. The job in hand, the job in hand I repeated like a mantra in my head.

Ranger was to approach the truck from the left, Danny the right and Lester the front. Our Intel showed that there were only two guys around, so I just needed to distract them long enough for the boys to get in place. The warehouse was isolated and badly lit, so it should be a piece of cake for these experts to sneak in and take down a couple of amateurs.

Ranger and Danny nodded at me and slipped into the night. I was giving them a couple of minutes to get into place. Plan was that I only needed to get within twenty feet of the targets to cause an adequate distraction. Lester would be behind me, coming from the front of the truck if he was needed, and to put his body between mine and a bullet if the shit hit the fan.

I heard two mikes click twice in my ear, signaling that Ric and Danny were in place, and with one final glance at Lester I sashayed off around the corner and towards the targets. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and chewed on it, while pasting a bored expression on my face. As planned, the two nameless guys glanced up as they heard my spiked heels clack on the sidewalk, and one of them wolf whistled.

"Hey, chickie, you looking for a little fun," the other called out.

I cocked my head and put a hand on my hip. "Maybe," I answered. "You boys think you can handle me?"

They left the open truck and crates and walked over, smiles on their faces. They were about to die, and they didn't even know it. A sick feeling formed in the pit of my stomach for the second time today, but I shoved it aside and slapped a fake smile upon my face. The shadows moved, and I only saw Ranger sliding across the front of the building because I was expecting him to be there. The targets stopped about ten feet away and Ranger suddenly appeared behind mark number one, stuck his gun to the guy's temple and pulled the trigger. I'm not sure that I even heard the gun go off as I was in so much shock. I swallowed a mouthful of bile down and the man crumpled to the floor. The second guy was down as well. I'd not even seen Danny ghost out of the darkness and take him down, but he was now standing a few feet in front of me, secreting his gun somewhere about his body.

Ranger holstered his own weapon, glanced briefly at the dead men and them took a hold of my elbow and steered me back towards the truck as fast as my four inch heels would carry me.

Lester was already behind the wheel, with the engine running as Ric shoved me into the back seat and grabbed shotgun for himself. Danny slid in the other side to me and the SUV took off at a steady clip away from the warehouse.

"I've called it in," Lester stated as he tossed a cheap prepaid cell out of the truck window, and peeled a latex glove off his hand with his teeth as he drove; evidently to make sure there were no fingerprints.

Ranger nodded and turned to Danny. "Weapon?"

Danny silently handed over his gun and then pulled his own gloves off. Shit, these guys were so cold and clinical. I was scared and I knew that at any second the adrenalin was going to vanish and I'd be left feeling numb and empty at best, and at worst I'd probably cry or throw up.

Ranger spoke again. "Head back to Trenton and swing by Fifth and Main on the way. There's some building works going on over there and they poured a load of concrete earlier. We'll lose the guns there. Nice job everyone."

I glanced down and realized that my hands were shaking. That my blood spattered hands were shaking. I was going to be sick. "Pull over," I managed to choke out before I lost my lunch in a gutter. Least I didn't hurl in a Rangeman truck, that's something I guess.

I looked up and saw Ranger standing in front of me. He looked pretty concerned. "Babe, you okay?"

"Peachy," I croaked out.

Someone handed me a bottle of water, and I swilled my mouth out a couple of times, spitting the water into the gutter, before handing the bottle back.

"Can we get moving again yet?" Ranger asked softly as he brushed a stray curl behind my ear.

It must have been that once familiar action coupled with what I had just seen Ranger do, but I shrank back from his touch. "Don't touch me, please."

"Steph?" He sounded worried and hurt.

"Just get back in the truck Ranger," I gritted out.

He shook his head and got back in the front, and Lester pulled away again, whileI tried my best to curl up in a ball and melt into the seat upholstery. I had seen some awful things in my life, I'd killed men, men who were trying to kill me, but never had I seen someone shot in cold blood, over something as simple as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those men died because of me, and that was God's honest truth. I wanted to help Bobby, when I could have just done nothing; I came up with the plan, and found the people to help me do it. Oh, I didn't pull the trigger, but there was certainly blood upon my hands in more ways than one. I had condemned those two men to death to save a friend. What the hell did that make me? A good friend or a murderer? Or both? Still didn't make it right though.

Danny jarred me from my morose musings. "I'd try and say something witty to lighten the mood, but I don't think that's gonna work right now is it?"

I glanced around at him and shrugged slightly.

He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear. "Later on you can ask me how I live with myself, okay. Any questions you have, I'll be happy to answer them for you. You got someone you can stay with tonight. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone."

I nodded slowly. Shit, he was right, I didn't want to be alone, but I couldn't go to Bobby and I sure as hell didn't want to spend any more time with Ranger or Lester today. "I'll be fine, I'll just go home and crash," I responded numbly. And crawl into a bottle and never climb out again.

"That's not a good idea, darlin'," he replied quietly.

"Thank you for your concern, but I really want to be alone. I'll be fine, honestly." The words came out automatically, I was an autopilot; the lights were on but nobody was home.

Danny looked at me closely and nodded. "Call me if you want to talk."

I did want to talk, I had so many questions, but what troubled me was getting the answers, because I wasn't sure that I was ready to hear them. No, I was going to drink that vodka in my kitchen cabinet and then drink the beers in the fridge, and then if I was still conscious, drink that foul green stuff Zero had left at my place a few weeks ago. Denial and vodka shots were my friend. Wonderwoman? Fuck that.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Yeah, it's back – finally! After a very long hiatus I got my Cake muse kicked up the ass. Short and sweet, but enjoy.

**Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?**

**Chapter Seventeen**

It had been just over a week since the incident in Newark, and I still wanted to spend my waking hours climbing into a bottle. I'd divided my time by working, sleeping or getting drunk; my preferred state was drunk. If I was working then I could to easily replay the horrific events in my head, and if I was asleep then my dreams were filled with blood and death.

The alcohol helped, but I now had to drink enough to knock myself out cold. If I was just slightly tipsy, then when sleep did come, I was plagued by the nightmares and woke up screaming. I spent my waking hours hung over and tired, and had resorted to caffeine pills to get me thought my shift at Shorty's. In short, I was a fucking mess.

Thankfully, I'd not seen Ranger or Lester since they dropped me off after the… that event. When Bobby had stopped by at work and asked me out clubbing, I'd told him that I was too busy; I just couldn't face being around them. I didn't want Lester to see how badly the whole thing had messed my head up, and I didn't want to spend time with Bobby because I didn't want to be reminded of what I'd done to keep him safe.

That night had done something to me, I couldn't tell you just what it was, but I felt sick to my soul. I'd lost count with the number of times I'd wondered just how guys like Ranger, Lester and Danny lived with themselves. I knew why they did it, shit I even knew why I'd gotten involved; it was about friendship and loyalty, watching the backs of those you loved and cared about. Yet what I still couldn't wrap my drink addled head around was how you just carried on with life like nothing had happened. How did you bury the feelings and emotions? Despite Ranger and Lester's bad ass exterior, I knew that they were both capable of emotion. Maybe their stint in the army had helped them detach from the bad shit that went on around them. Unfortunately I didn't have that luxury, so I guess that I was going to be stuck with the drink for a little while longer.

The door to my building was standing open and music could be heard out on the sidewalk, even at 2.30am; guess the guy in 1B was having another party. I stepped into the entry way, maneuvered around the pile of discarded mail that littered the floor and paused outside the noisy apartment; voices floated out of the room, even over the din of the hip-hop. People were laughing, joking, having a good time and here I was, dying on the inside; I'd never felt so alone and cold.

I shook my head and started up the stairs to the emptiness of my apartment where I could stare at the walls again until I passed out. Still, Bobby was safe, and that was all that mattered.

"Hey pretty lady," a voice called out over the noise as I was a couple of steps up the stairs.

I turned around slowly, and my hand gravitated to the pepper spray in my bag. A tall, built and very cute black guy stood in the doorway to 1B. I raised an eyebrow at him.

He shoved his hands in the back pockets of his baggy jeans and smiled. "You wanna join us for a beer?"

I hesitated, and he must have sensed my uneasiness as he held his hands out, palms up, in a non threatening gesture. "Just a beer, okay? Being neighborly, that's all, girl. I seen you come home most nights."

I moved down a step. "Just a beer?"

He nodded. "I'll even turn the tunes down a bit, darlin'. What you say?"

"Sure, why not." At least that way I could save some of my wages instead of spending them all on booze by drinking someone else's.

I followed the guy into his apartment; it was sparse, but surprisingly clean and the smell of marijuana choked the air. A couple of other guys – one black and one Hispanic were sprawled out on the couch and they glanced up when I walked in.

Hispanic guy looked me up and down and leered, while the black guy flashed me a blinding, gold teeth filled smile. Okay, so maybe this was a bad idea.

My host handed me a bottle of Bud, knocked the stereo down a decibel or twenty, and motioned to the ratty armchair. "Sit down, darlin'. You look like you been on your feet for a week."

My Burg manners kicked in and I sat cautiously on the edge of the armchair and regretted accepting this invitation.

He sat on the arm of the couch and smiled at me. "You working at Shorty's, yeah?"

I nodded.

"You don't say much, do ya, doll?" Hispanic guy said with a lazy smile as he took a deep draw on a joint.

"Hell," cute guy murmured. "Where are my manners at? I'm Tyrone."

I accepted his outstretched hand. "Stephanie."

"And these two reprobates were just leavin', right?"

Gold teeth guy looked between Tyrone and I a couple of times, and shot a knowing look at his companion on the sofa. "We'll be going. Catch you later, man."

A couple of complicated handshakes followed, and the pair slipped out of the apartment and off into the night.

Tyrone moved to stretch out on the couch and set about rolling a joint. "You work too much, ya know."

"Huh?" I managed to reply oh so eloquently.

"I see you working like six nights a week; you look like you need to chill out."

I shrugged and tried to hide just how awkward I was feeling. "Gotta pay the rent."

"You not got a man to help with that?" he asked as he spread the grass into the papers and topped it up with tobacco.

I nearly choked on my beer. "Excuse me?"

He licked the papers and expertly rolled them into a tube, then slid a roach into one end. "Seen a few guys comin' and goin' at first; figured you was on the game, but I've not seem them for a while."

I stared at him incredulously. "You think I'm a hooker?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I thought that, but I figure now that you just wait tables, yeah?"

"Yes, I just wait tables," I gritted out as I picked up my purse and made to leave.

Tyrone lit the joint and took a deep drag. "Sit down, girl; I don't mean anything by it. I don't care what you to pay the bills, I just asking why a pretty thing like you don't got no man to help her make the rent."

I sat down again. "It's complicated."

He snorted. "Ain't it ever, baby."

I stared at my feet. "I just don't do so well with relationships; they always turn to shit."

Tyrone offered me the joint. "Here, you look like you got more worries than that in that head of yours. You got the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it seems like it's draggin' you down."

"I don't…" I started as I eyed the joint warily, and then thought what the hell. "Thank you."

"Atta girl. Makes the world a little better, you feel me?"

I took in a lungful of smoke, closed my eyes and slowly exhaled. "Maybe."

"Tell you what, I'll roll you another and you can take it with you."

I offered him the joint back and he shook his head. "I need to crash, and you look like you need that a lot more than I do. Take it and this fresh one home with you, and just let it all go for a while."

I smiled at him. "Thank you. I could use a little… you know."

"I get ya," he said with a nod as he rolled me another joint. "Drop in on your way home tomorrow, yeah?"

I drained my beer, grabbed my purse and accepted the smoke from his hand. "What do I owe you for this?"

Tyrone shook his head. "Nothing, don't you worry about it."

"You sure?" I asked.

"Sure. I'll see you around, Stephanie."

"Night, Tyrone," I said as I headed for the door. "And thank you."

"Sleep well," he called out.

I wandered up the stairs to my apartment, rooted in my bag for my keys and took another draw on the joint. Damn, I'd not done this stuff since college. Maybe a nice buzz and a few beers would help me sleep. Shit, it couldn't get any worse.

Once inside, I dropped my bag on the floor, kicked off my sneakers, grabbed a six pack from the fridge and settled down on my couch for another night of drinking and trying to keep the demons at bay.


End file.
